A Mandalorian's Promise
by Mother Mayhem
Summary: KoToR: Our Heroine is a light sided Female Revan aka Pol Valor. It's a CanderousRevan pairing so if you aren't a fan of the Mandalorian you might want to skip this one.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own anything. And I don't get paid anything. Please leave a review, gutsy but constructive criticism is always appreciated, that's why my little pet project is on here. I am aspiring to be a real writer one day….

Mother Mayhem

A/N: Pol Valor is Revan.

**Chapter One – Taris Upper City Hideout**

Stepping cautiously out of the abandoned apartment they had recently claimed as their own, Pol and Carth were accosted by an out of breath Twi'lek runner.

"You there, human, you are the rider who won the great swoop race in the lower city yes?" The green Twi'lek gasped

Carth and Pol exchanged a quizzical look, and after a moments hesitation Pol answered. "Rather depends who's asking. What do you want?"

"Me?" Gulped the Twi'lek "I want nothing I am only a runner. I work for the man who hired me"

"Yeah, how's that going for you?" Pol gibed, motioning to Carth, "Let's go."

"Wait!" The messenger stammered, with wide eyes darting between the pair anxiously. "I have a message from Canderous Ordo. He says to meet him in the upper city cantina"

Pol paused at the Mandalorian's mention; she shrugged slightly and raised a brow askance at the Twi'lek. "What does he want with me?"

"Two guesses," Carth snarled anticipating the worst and instinctively reaching for his blaster. Pol stayed the paranoid pilot with a gesture. She had encountered the Mandalorian twice in two days and neither meeting had been all bad. In her private opinion, both occasions went rather well.

**Flashback – Lower City**

The first occasion; was a typical Lower city scene. The merc's presence had been employed to diffuse a potentially messy shake down between Exchange debt collectors and a lower city gang. Evidently the Black Vulkar's were behind in their bribe money, but soon came good without a fuss when Canderous arrived. Despite being inured to violence Pol had appreciated the quiet threat he posed the reluctant payees. From where she stood in the shadows she admired the blood free scene and the man who had kept it that way.

At the time Pol was sequestered, or so she thought, stealth clad in the shadows of the lower city. A nearly invisible bystander to the scene, no one noticed her, except for Canderous. His grey eyes seemed perpetually seconds away from scowling or smiling. He stared straight at her. He nodded in her direction discreetly then spoke to the small gathering. "Too bad, I was looking forward to cracking some heads," he stated in mock resentment of the nonviolent resolution.

When the crowd dispersed Canderous lingered waiting for her to make herself known. He was still brandishing a weapon though more out of habit than intent. Ashamed at being caught out, Pol approached the seasoned warrior somewhat sheepishly.

"I'd get my credits back on that stealth field generator if I were you." He suggested with a leer.

"Good advice," Pol shrugged her mouth curving slightly. "So who are you that men tremble in fear?" She asked rhetorically. The man, by name and by build, was clearly a Mandalorian veteran. Despite the hollowness of the question, Canderous introduced himself formally in a voice that seethed with fierce pride; though his eyes told Pol he would rather be elsewhere.

In true Mandalorian fashion, he maintained an air of arrogance, not asking her name, nor for any explanation as to why she had been skulking cat like through the lower city. Canderous stated that he had more work to do for Davik. Then he strolled off with an easy stride to his pace, it was obvious to Pol, he knew she was still watching him.

It took willpower, but she managed to look away before he was completely out of sight. Pol was irked at the Mandalorian's indifference to her. This was mainly because it indicated that he had her pegged as 'no threat'. She cursed her busted stealth unit angrily. Most would have been relived for that kind of attention from a Mandalorian, but Pol was not most people and as a scout turned warrior she found it insulting.

Moreover, Pol was desperately embarrassed about appearing so unskilled in front of such an acclaimed predator. "Bah, I can eat Mandalorians' for breakfast; I don't need to prove myself to him." She consoled herself with a whisper and continued about her business only half believing the statement to be true.

**The second encounter – Under-City Sewer Entrance**

Their first meeting had come as a shock to Canderous. Seeing the young woman unaccompanied in the lower city was unexpected, mostly because of the Sith quarantine. His first thought was: _Now how did she get by me?_ She was clearly an offworlder a fighter of some sort; _She couldn't have come down in the pods…could she? _She looked nothing like a Republic soldier, she moved all wrong, and it was Canderous's job to know all the bounty hunters and mercs'. A casual inquiry at Javyar's had revealed her name to be, Pol Valor, but no further information could be had.

Canderous soon revised his estimation of Pol when they met again in the lower city. The scavenging mission Davik had sent him on was demeaning, the company appalling. Nine barely trained thugs with shaky hands and poor aim. It went badly, and would have been worse had the girl not intervened.

To start with the downed escape pods had already been scrounged by the Vulkars' when Canderous arrived with his team, and what salvage could be had was barely worth the resources to procure it. Worst yet Canderous was losing men fast to rakghouls. When he reached the 'half my team is dead' point he turned back for the surface. He had just lost another man when he ran into Pol near by an entrance to the sewers.

Seeing Pol Valor for the second time and with her present companions near the sewers was positively alarming. She was flanked by Mission, a Twi'lek girl that ran with the Hidden Bek's Swoop gang, and a blaster toting thug. Canderous decided the man looked like a Republic soldier who was trying not to look like a Republic soldier. He ran down a mental note of the thug's description, planning to have him checked out by Davik's sources later on. Strange company, he could only guess as to their purpose in the sewers.

Canderous greeted the trio gruffly, not about to ask what their purpose was, though it was curiosity that drove him to approach them. He took a guess.

"By the looks of you, I'd say you were here for the same reason we are: to salvage something from those downed Republic escape pods. Let me give you some advice: Forget about it. Do yourself a favor and head back the way you came."

"Are you threatening me?" Pol asked cheekily.

Rolling his eyes at the younger woman's audacity Canderous replied wearily, "Mandalorian's don't make threats, we make promises. But that was just a friendly warning, nothing more." Canderous noticed her eyes were brimming with something unfamiliar…amusement? _Not only is she not intimidated…She thinks I'm kidding?_

"Look this isn't the place to stand about chatting, the under city is crawling with rakghouls. I've already lost six of my men to those monsters; ah crap… Looks like we got company. Get those blasters ready boys!"

Within seconds a pack of rakghouls was on them. Pol shoved her young companion back from the fray and dove headlong into the melee, brandishing a vibrosword like a hell fiend. Before Canderous could take aim Pol had lopped the head of his targets, in a gorgeous whirling circle of impossibly fast death. She took the entire pack down almost single-handedly.

_Now THAT is inspiring, I have to resume melee training._Canderous thought to himself as he admired her form. _Very capable, hmm I'll have to watch this one. And with a face as fine as that it won't be too hard a chore either. _

"C'mon boys," Canderous gathered the two remaining salvagers; recalling how incensed Davik had been the last time he had returned without a crew. "I better get the last of you out of here; I can't carry all this salvage on my own. If your wise you'll move out too, you might not have trouble handling rakghouls but I doubt there is anything worth finding in those pods anymore," Canderous held Pol's gaze a second longer than is polite; a Mandalorian test for weakness. To his surprise, she met him eye to eye without fear and without any intention of looking away.

"I thank you for your advice and assistance with the rakghouls, but my business down here is my own." Pol held the gaze and smiled lightly waiting for Canderous to crack. She exuded quiet confidence. Had she a cigarra, she would have lit it at this point.

_So she thinks she knows this game? Ha, I invented it_."Very well," said Canderous dismissively, without breaking the gaze.

"So you'll be going then?" Pol smirked _I have the upper hand good Mandalorian, and I NEVER lose_ Thought she of the indomitable will.

The onus was on Canderous to back down, his men were getting restless at the delay, and Pol's companions were looking both perplexed and concerned by turns at the impromptu staring competition. _Nark it_ thought Canderous bowing out of the struggle reluctantly. To consolidate his superiority, or so he saw it, at the time, he looked her over from head to toe, committing her to memory with accuracy that bordered on vulgar, before departing.

"What are you doing? That's CANDEROUS ORDO! He's Davik's top merc. Tell me you weren't picking a fight with him!" Mission groaned with dismay whilst rubbing her forehead.

"I'd say he's Davik's pimp too," Carth commented disapprovingly.

"I doubt that, I've heard a lot about this guy. A lot. But I never heard that." Mission interjected.

"Am I the only one who saw how he was looking at Pol? Eh maybe you're too young…" Carth said.

"I don't have to take this; as soon as we get big Z back, I am gone old man!" Mission Vao bristled at any slight on her age, which was teen aged.

"That's enough. Zaalbar needs us, so if you can't say anything nice to each other…" Pol began her scolding.

"…Don't say anything at all" Carth and Mission completed the sentence in unison with such petulance Pol had to laugh. They had only been working together for a few hours but they were learning fast.

**Taris - Hideout**

Carth frowned seriously, "So explain something to me, why we are meeting this animal again?"

"If you're going to harbor that attitude, I'll take Zaalbar with me instead of you Carth. We are meeting Canderous because he may have useful information for us."

"Oh yeah, and I bet he will part with it in exchange for a few favors too." Carth opined caustically.

"Carth! I have left you alone thus far because these trust issues were your own, but now that they are becoming my problem…" Pol was getting tired of Carth's distrust.

"Ok, maybe I'm being paranoid, but why should this guy help us? It reeks of a set up. Either that or he sent a runner to ask you on a date." Carth scuffed his boot against the worn carpet in a display of agitation.

Pol caught her warped reflection in the durasteel doorframe and preened surreptitiously, "Either way he can buy me a drink anytime." Pol murmured under her breath.

"Huh?"

"Nothing, let's just go already, soonest gone, soonest back." Pol swept past Carth holding in her breath vainly hoping he wouldn't notice the faint perfume she had breezily applied moments before. Her luck wasn't with her.

Carth gave her a puzzled look, "Pol… Are you wearing perfume?"

"No." Pol lied.

**Meanwhile at the Upper City Cantina**

Canderous leaned impatiently against the bar. He had positioned himself to monitor the flow of traffic in and out of the main entrances and so that he wouldn't get whiplash from checking his blind spots. _Ten more minutes and I am gone._ He told himself for the fourth time.

Pol walked in through the main doors. Her confidence so apparent, that any one who didn't know the cantina's publican would have thought she owned the room. All eyes were on her as she made her way to Canderous's side. No wanting too much attention at this point he threw the old 'Mandalorian death stare' across the crowded cantina and watched the interest she had drawn from about the room withdraw. Her admirers mostly Swoop fans, and dueling freaks recoiled when they realized who she had come to meet. Canderous's reputation had flourished on Taris and evidently no one wanted to get involved.

_Damn she bought the soldier. No matter._ Canderous thought as he acknowledged the pair. He had done his homework and had a wealth of information about her companions, but very little about Pol herself. _I'll just have to work that out on my own _he decided.

"I saw you in the swoop race, very impressive," he stated in a tone gilded with admiration. "You seem like the kind of woman who can get things done, just the kind of person I'm looking for. I'm presently working for Davik Kang and the Exchange the hours aren't great, but they promised me a fortune to work for them and I have nothing better to do. Mandalorian mercs' like me are in high demand. But lately Davik hasn't been paying me what he promised. I don't like getting cheated so I figure its time for me to break Sith quarantine and get off this backwater planet."

"What has this got to do with me exactly?" Pol asked, taking a seat beside the huge Mandalorian.

"I have a plan to escape Taris, but I can't do it alone. I need some one I know can get the job done to help me. That's where you come in." Canderous motioned to Pol affably, a gesture that set Carth on edge.

"Hands off," Carth threatened and shouldered his way between the pair, "Pol, watch yourself mercs like this haven't got a lick of conscience they'll betray you in a heartbeat. This could be a trap."

"Thank you brother Carth, I would never have guessed that…" Pol retorted sarcastically. Her comments won a laugh from Canderous and a frown from Carth.

"Well I aint talking to you, I'm talking to your friend aren't I?" Canderous asserted with a leer. "I saw you win that swoop race and I started thinking any one crazy enough to ride like that is probably crazy enough to break into the Sith military base." He brushed past Carth roughly; and leaned closer to Pol who was a vision of calm, for all of Carth's pouting.

He addressed Pol in a baritone textured by an intermittent cigarra habit, "I need you to steal the Sith launch codes from the base. Without those codes any ship trying to break the quarantine will be destroyed by the Sith fleet's automated guns."

"What's in this for me?" Pol prompted.

"Here's the deal, you get me those codes and I'll provide you with the vehicle to get off this planet, Davik's flagship, the Ebon Hawk." _Damn her eyes I'm giving away more information than I intended…_

"How?" Pol asked plainly pushing her luck.

"Uh huh ha, not yet," _You won't catch me that easily woman. _"Bring me the codes first, and then I'll tell you the rest of my plan." Canderous grinned wolfishly at Pol's apparent disappointment.

_I had him for a second,_ she thought waving away a drinks waiter, _got to stay sharp with this one._ "I don't imagine getting into a Sith military base will be a simple task." Pol leaned against the bar, rumpling the beer towel runner, she gave it a tweak with her fingers straitening the cloth, but upsetting a bowl of nuts.

Canderous shrugged casually, "It won't be easy, with the encryptions on the security doors you will need a top of the line astromech droid to slice in. Luckily for us Davik was having one made by Janice Nall. Just tell her Canderous sent you and she will sell you the droid."

Pol rubbed her fingers together in a 'gimmie the credits and I'll go get it' gesture, "Well then, pay up soldier."

"Ha! You just won the season opener, and you expect me to believe that you're broke? What kind of idiot do you take me for?" Canderous laughed, "I like your style though, nice try."

"So am I to understand that I get no compensation for my troubles?"

"You can keep the droid when you're done." Canderous conceded dryly after short consideration.

"That's charitable of you, Mandalorian, considering I will be the one paying for it, but won't Davik get narked if I take his droid?" Pol asked barely reigning in her sarcastic streak.

"He commissioned the droid, but he placed me in charge of the task, he won't care how I get the codes as long as I get them. Normally I'd do this myself but everyone knows who I work for. If I broke into the Sith base they would send an army down on Davik's estate to get those launch codes back. That's why I need you."

Pol gave her answer instantly. "Ok Canderous, you got yourself a deal."

Carth added, "I hate to say it but he's probably right, we're going to need that ship."

"I'm going to wait for you in Javyar's cantina you come find me when you get those codes and I'll make sure we both get off this rock." Canderous paid up his tab and left the cantina at a brisk pace, he had preparations and inquiries of his own to make.

"Where are you going?" Carth asked Pol as she started to leave.

Pol paused so he could catch up, "To buy me an astromech droid, you coming?"

"Sure, but don't you think we should speak to Bastila about this plan first?"

"Carth, Bastila won't like it. You know this. So why bother telling her, it's not like we can take her with us to a Sith base, that would be like handing her to Malak himself."

"I see your point, but I still think she should know about this. Incase some thing goes wrong." Carth reasoned.

"All right, you go talk to her, and I'll go shopping." Pol suggested brightly.

"You really don't want to talk to her about this do you?"

"Carth, there are two kinds of people in situations like these, those who like to talk a lot cough Jedi cough and those who would rather shut up and do." Pol made a gagging face at the Jedi word. A former fan of the Jedi, Bastila had gone a long way to lowering them in Pol's esteem.

"Fine, but watch your back ok? These streets are nasty and I don't like the way that Mandalorian looks at you." Carth grunted.

From Pol's experience Carth didn't like any one looking at anything period, but she decided not to raise the issue. "I am only going to get a droid. When I bust into the base I will take you and Zaalbar with me." Pol agreed.

"It's a deal, let's go soldier." Carth waved Pol by, sniffing the air behind her, she was definitely wearing perfume. _A nice one too_Carth judged before heading back to the hideout. _She lied to me._ Carth thought suspiciously.

**Hideout**

Carth arrived at the apartment to find Bastila fuming. She had just found out about the meeting with Canderous. Mission had accidentally let the gizka out of the strong box.

"Carth Onasi, what the hell are you doing meeting with a Mandalorian merc behind my back?" Bastila charged angrily.

"It wasn't directly behind your back Bastila." Mission argued, "if you step out in public the Sith will know you're here, not mention the Vulkars weren't thrilled with your escape…" The young Twi'lek girl rationalized the situation beautifully.

"Mission is right Bastila, you're too well known to be seen in public on Taris." Carth added.

"That is not the point. Whether I go to the bloody cantina or not is of no matter. The Republic and the Jedi council placed me in charge of this operation. Dealing with a rogue like Canderous Ordo is not my idea of a sound plan. I make the decisions, not Pol! Speaking of which… where is she?"

"This isn't going to solve anything Bastila. Look Pol has a plan to get us off this planet, yeah it involves the Mandalorian but I believe she knows what she is doing," Carth tried to placate the Jedi though he was harboring his own doubts about Pol.

"No plan involving a Mandalorian merc can be a good one! Carth you fought them in the war, you know this!"

"Hey prejudice aside, here Canderous is a good contact to have in a city like Taris," Mission added "and Pol is a capable woman, and if she needs back up me and big Z will be there for her!"

"Oh great a Wookiee and a toddler," Bastila seethed as she paced the apartment floor.

Zaalbar groaned noisily as Mission yelled, "Stow it you sour old hag! We're out of here!" Mission lost her temper quickly and stormed towards the door. On reaching it she was intercepted by Carth who she assaulted with the lid of a Plasteel container. Carth recovered himself in time to halt her progress. Zaalbar whined incomprehensibly, he didn't want to get involved in the fray.

"Let her go and have her tantrum." Bastila sniped at the struggling pair.

"You're lacking in leadership quality Bastila," Carth retorted. Earning Mission's attention, he said to her, "Mission you can't storm off like that in a huff, all unfocused… it's not safe."

Zaalbar moaned in agreement and Mission relented. "Yeah you're right, but I would rather be helping Pol. At least she respects me."

"We all respect you Mission. You're a talented young person. And I am sorry I didn't say so earlier." Carth offered a genuine apology as he rubbed the bruise that was forming where the Plasteel container had made contact with his shin.

"You mean that?" Mission asked, her eyes misting up.

"Yeah I'm sorry; really I should know better, I had a son your age…I know how important praise is to kids…" Carth teased

"Kids!" Mission, fumed before breaking into a sparkling grin "Oh ha-ha, I get it; you're pretty funny for an old geezer."

"So you forgive me?" Carth winced brushing his hair from his eyes

"Yeah, I forgive you Carth," Mission said aloud. Under her breath she mumbled to Zaalbar, "But the Jedi can still shove it."

Zaalbar roared with laughter, which educed a paranoid, but in this instance justifiable response from Bastila.

"What was that comment, Wookiee?" She demanded, rage building.

"Whoa slow down Bastila. Look Mission, I bet Pol could use your help buying that droid, she's on her way to Janice Nall's shop now if you want to catch her." Carth held back Bastila with one hand and shooed Mission on her way with the other like a crossing guard directing traffic.

"I have got to find a new line of work." He whispered to himself as Mission left and Bastila set about modifying her lightsaber at the workbench.

**A New T3 for Me**

Mission arrived at Janice Nall's workshop to find Pol haggling prices with Janice Nall herself.

"Hi Mission." Pol greeted the Twi'lek despairingly between bargaining.

"Hey Pol, you need some help?"

"Yeah considering Janice here is cutting my throat over prices." Pol agreed. She knew when she was outmatched.

"That droid is one of a kind." Janice reassured jovially.

"Look I'm buying this for Canderous; can't you take that into account with the pricing?" Pol pleaded.

"I already have, if it weren't for Canderous I wouldn't be selling it to you at all! 1500 credits." The proprietress insisted.

Mission entered the bargaining with the savage intent of a professional buyer. "He's barely worth it. We offer 500 credits."

"No way! 1300 credits or I can't cover the costs of rebuilding it." Janice proclaimed.

Pol grinned at Mission and went for her wallet, happy with the 700 credit price reduction, but Mission stalled her. "1000 credits Nall, not a penny more, this is our final offer take it or leave it. I suggest you take it as the droid has been purpose built for this sale."

"Ok you got yourself a droid!" Janice Nall beamed happily; she was still getting 200 credits more than the thing was worth.

"Thanks Mission," said Pol. "I've never been too sharp with haggling."

"Eh we still got ripped off, but Janice is a nice girl, and there's no easy living for Twi'leks'' in this city. You know Bastila was kind of sore about you making plans with Canderous, behind her back."

"It wasn't behind her back," Pol defended herself halfheartedly, she hadn't slept in days and all of Bastila's infighting and Carth's paranoia were wearing thin.

"That's what I said. But she's not hot on the idea of dealing with him. Any way she's been taking it out on the rest of us."

"Damn, I'm sorry for that. What do you think Mission? Am I crazy for trusting him?"

"Its ok I can handle her. As for Ordo, I have heard Canderous called a lot of things; deal breaker is not one of them. He has a lot of power and influence, in this city, enough to make things happen, but when it comes down to it he is still just one of Davik's thug's for hire. And all mercs have a price." Mission often showed a street smart brand of wisdom beyond her years, and Pol loved that about the youth.

"That's kinda how I see it too; hell what loyalty does he owe to anyone? Except maybe to some long dead Mandalorian leader in a shiny envirosuit. I do know this though, if Canderous is planning to double-cross us it _won't_ be with Davik."

"How do you know that? For sure, I mean." Mission asked.

"Mission, have you ever hired a Mandalorian merc and then not paid him the agreed price for his services?"

"Ah no can't say I have." Mission said shaking her head slowly.

"That's because you have a keen survival instinct." Pol surmised with a wink.

"I got ya." The understanding swiftly dawned in her baby blue eyes.

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

Aside from minor hiccups, that left Zaalbar with a few furless patches, infiltrating the Sith military base went relatively well for Pol and her crew. But Carth noticed that the better things were going, under Pol's direction the more agitated Bastila became. So Carth took it upon himself to take Pol aside for a little 'chat'.

"She's kinda touchy about you leading the operations." He said.

"Yeah, you'd think what with battle meditation being her forte that she'd be a more centered soul than she appears," Pol hated these chats. This was because the resolution was usually a watering down of her plans. And that culminated in some half baked version of her desired outcome.

"That's true; she doesn't strike me as the meditative type." Carth accepted staring thoughtfully into the air and restyling his goatee with his fingers.

"Oo I know I know! Maybe she's not the real Bastila Shan?" Teased Pol, knowing full well Carth's paranoid persona would have a field-day with the notion.

"Oh ha-ha, very funny; you can't bait me that easily. You may think me paranoid but I have good reason to be. Pol I've been betrayed by people before, I won't let it happen again."

"Carth, I hate to break it to you man, but you can't control a thing like that. People can't be directed that way, but I get your point. It sucks boma guts to be cheated. As for the Bastila thing, perhaps if you took on a more commandeering role she would simmer down? Just while she is in hiding; she really seems to hate me in particular and technically _you_ are her second in charge." Pol poked Carth in the chest with a foolish grin.

"A reasonable idea but I doubt that would help much, as Canderous seems intent on dealing with _you_ directly." Carth's voice resonated with suspicion.

Pol smiled. "Well I am the champion swoop racer." She gushed, breathing on her fingernails and bringing them to a shine on her lapel.

"Oh ho!" Chortled Carth, "Is THAT why you think he wants to deal with you specifically?"

_Sadly yes,_thought Pol. "Something like that flyboy. Look I'll try to downplay my role in this 'escape Taris' mission if it helps any, but we need Canderous to get the Ebon Hawk. Meanwhile you and Zaalbar try to keep Mission and Bastila from killing each other while I am gone."

"What do you think I have been doing all day?" Carth groaned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Javyar's Cantina**

Pol and Carth met Canderous at Javyar's as planned. Canderous made his displeasure at seeing the Republic pilot known by turning his back on Carth to address Pol, in a low voice intended for her ears alone.

"I knew you'd be back, look neither of us is getting off this planet unless we work together. Now I know the Sith base had a break in and I know it was you, so I know you have those departure codes I need. So what's say we join forces? I can get you inside Davik's estate and right to the Ebon Hawk, if it weren't for your friend the Republic pilot we could go right now."

"How you going to sneak us in?" Pol asked taking care to include Carth in her equation.

"Not him, and don't play dumb you know why," Canderous pointed to Carth insolently. "Just you and no sneaking, we both know you're no stealth expert. Davik and the exchange are always looking to recruit new talent. I'll tell him you're a friend. He knows you won that swoop race, I'll tell him you are interested in working with the exchange. I'll say I bought you in so he could check you out. He'll have you stay at his estate for a few days while he runs some background checks on you, that's standard procedure. While he's checking you out, we steal the Ebon Hawk and escape Taris. I have an air speeder near by we can go to his estate now. The sooner were off Taris the better."

"I need a moment to talk with my friend," Ignoring Canderous's sense of urgency Pol took Carth aside, while the Mandalorian looked on warily.

As soon as they were out of earshot Carth said, "I really think I should go with you to Davik's estate."

"I don't think that's wise." Pol interjected.

"Why not? Just coz he says so?" Carth demanded waving angrily in the Mandalorians direction.

"No. I'll give you three reasons, One - You and the Mandalorian think you're STILL in a war that ended years ago. Two, you won't ever pass Davik's background check- Carth a blind Miraluka could see you work for the Republic and Canderous knows this. And Three…I forget… But it's probably something to do with the amount of fun I get to have." Pol ticked the points off on her fingers absentmindedly.

"Pol this isn't some booze and snore cruise, and you could be in real danger." Carth said with a disapproving frown.

"I know, I'm going to steal a ship and then come get you all. Hey don't look at me like that Carth, I gave you my word. Hell I'll even tell Bastila what my plans are before I go."

"I'll hold you to that one, that woman is getting more impossible every day." Carth said as Pol returned the verdict to their unlikely coconspirator.

Canderous arranged to meet Pol in the upper city once she had packed her things and alerted her companions to her movements. He didn't like their inclusion, but there seemed no swaying the young woman. Begrudgingly Canderous went to wait by his air speeder.

Back in their abandoned apartment, Pol packed swiftly, Bastila had held her up with lectures and time was getting on. "I will send you the codes via comlink once you have the ship, not before. Don't forget the Republic is depending on us." Affirmed Bastila sternly, she had given Pol a private telling off, and now that she felt sufficiently involved in the process, she indicated that Pol was free to go. Relived to be away from the Jedi, Pol headed to the meeting place with sparks of excitement coursing thorough her veins.

**Air Speeder**

Canderous watched Pol cross the square. The sunlight filtered through the pollution in dazzling rays that picked out points of light on her clothing.Her walk was part soldier on a mission with a graceful dose of dancer thrown in. Never a step out of place she exuded confidence in the most captivating way. _Beautiful, she knows where her body is in relation to its environment; at every instant in time, she is proficiently self aware. No wonder she is such a superb killing machine_. Determined to gather more information about Pol he paused, before greeting her, to shut off the air speeder.

"Why are you killing the engine? Let's go." Said Pol making no apologies for the time she had cost him. She threw her pack over the side of the vehicle; Canderous caught it with a steady hand.

"Not yet let's go get a drink. I've been waiting for over an hour in the sun. I'm thirsty."

"What happened to 'the sooner we get of Taris the better.'?" Pol asked, in a close imitation of the Mandalorian's comfortable drawl. She squinted up at Canderous warily there was something about his eyes that seemed a little off, to her.

"I'm buying; I owe you a drink for your help with the rakghouls." Canderous looked down at Pol. _She thinks I'm up to something, bah well I am…I guess. This would be easier if I knew who she was._

"C'mon what can one drink hurt? What am I gonna do tie you to the air speeder? Look we need to be seen together for this to appear legit. Davik has been watching me closely since Calo Nord arrived on the scene."

"Well I guess Bastila won't forward the codes till we get the Hawk anyways…"

"Atta girl, but I have to ask, or I will kick myself later. Do you really want to take them off Taris with us?"

"Don't ask me that!" Pol laughed cryptically.

"Ha-ha fine have your little secret Mysterious Stranger." Canderous laughed as they took a place at the bar.

"Oh gods no, you know about THAT?" Pol cringed giggling into her ale.

"Darlin' I hear about everything that goes on in this city, besides who do you think they sent to collect Davik's cut from the Bendak Starkiller duel?"

"Of course," sighed Pol, it was glaringly obvious. "So how are you with me killing a Mandalorian?"

"Bendak was weak, he deserved to die."

"Or maybe it just wasn't his day?" Pol offered giving the fallen dueling champion his dues.

"It's no ones day when they face a real warrior." Canderous delivered the compliment like an insult.

"What's this high praise from a Mandalorian?"

"You have potential." Was all Canderous would say. Though his mouth was set firm there was faint glimmer of appreciation in his eyes. Suddenly he asked, "Have we met before?" He was all seriousness again staring at her face intently.

"No, I think I'd remember you if we had." Said Pol honestly, "Or was that just a pick up line?"

"Ha! If I was hitting on you Pol there would be no doubt." Canderous smiled and shook his head.

Pol shivered, internally at the thought. _Mmm he said my name._"So did you see me in the dueling ring?" She asked moving the conversation to a safer topic.

"I don't have the time for that kind of thing…But yeah I saw the last… Few fights." Canderous kicked himself, he had admitted far more than he like to. _Why do I always tell her too much? Maybe Tarisian ale wasn't a good idea_.The other duels he had sent his agents to see, as part of his early personal recon work on the new arrivals.

"You finished that drink? We should go before it gets dark out." Canderous stood suddenly, and threw a handful of credits onto the bar. Pol rose quickly to meet him and he guided her out of the cantina.

Pol settled onto the air speeder behind Canderous stowing her pack while he started the jets. "Hold on kid." He ordered gunning the engine. At the invitation Pol folded her arms neatly about Canderous's broad chest. Once they took off Pol took the opportunity to breathe him in discreetly. He smelled strongly of the upper city cantina they had just left, beer, ripe fruit, smoke and civilization. But there were traces of him there too, leather, carbon, clean sweat and aftershave.

**Introductions**

Davik Kang greeted them with the precise tone of some one who hates to be misunderstood. "So Canderous, I see you have bought a friend. Most intriguing if I do say so myself, you usually travel alone." He was accompanied by Calo Nord, the latest addition to his 'killing team'.

"It's not like you to take on partners, 'friend' or not. You're getting soft." Calo taunted snidely. The diminutive bounty hunter folded his arms aggressively and stared at Canderous awaiting a response.

"Watch yourself Calo, you may be the newest Kath hound in the pack but you aren't top dog yet. At least I have what it takes to make 'friends'." Canderous retorted spitefully.

Davik silenced his men. "Enough I won't have my two top men killing each other. That's not good business. I'm sure Canderous has an explanation as to why he isn't working solo anymore?"

"I do, this is a special case Davik. I ran into some one the exchange might want to recruit. You may have heard of her exploits already." Canderous stated.

"Ah now I recognize you. You're the rider who won the swoop race. Very impressive. As was your display in the rather heated battle afterwards." Davik added contemplatively.

Pol spoke for the first time since arriving at the estate. "I wouldn't have picked you for a swoop fan Davik."

"Everyone watches the season opener, but Canderous is right the exchange is always looking for new blood with 'special talents'. You could have a bright future with our organization." He said.

"I don't believe this, she is a swoop rider, and a girl!" Calo slurred, he was ignorant to the extent of Pol's achievements.

"Ah Calo you're just jealous because she's taller than you." Canderous taunted maliciously. "He's never seen a girl before." He added in a stage whisper to Pol.

"Why you smarmy son of a rancor-" Calo launched into a range of expletives but was cut short – shorter - by Davik before either bounty hunter could resort to actual violence. During the war of words Pol held the sidelines without concern, even learning a few new insults.

"Men I said enough! With a recommendation from Canderous and a thorough background check you could become part of the exchange. Many would kill to prove themselves worthy of the honor." Davik pronounced.

"Your offer intrigues me Davik." Pol purred out her response, still playing calm witness to the merc's testosterone fueled fight.

"Come I'll give you a tour of my operations." Davik swept Pol and Canderous away before Calo could secure an invitation to join them. _I hope your paying attention to details_, thought Canderous as Davik exhibited his pride and joy, the Ebon Hawk._Go on old man; tell her all about the security system_.Canderous willed him.

Finally Davik delivered Pol to Canderous's apartments within the complex.

"These will be your rooms; you will be under guard for the duration of your stay." Davik said to Pol. "I trust you can handle this assignment Canderous?" Davik asked his offsider.

"Of course," Canderous said trying to affect disinterest at the thought.

"Now Ms Valor, if you want anything, food, a massage, feel free to make use of the servants down the hall. If all goes well with your background check you will be offered a job with the exchange and rooms of your own on the estate. When the offer comes I'd advise you to take it – or suffer the dire consequences of refusal."

"I look forward to working with you Davik." Pol ignored the implied threat. She was so familiar with these tactics, she couldn't have been sure that she hadn't used them herself at one time.

"Try to keep within these halls for the next few days, for your own safety you understand. If you bother my 'other' guests you will be dealt with by security harshly. Meanwhile make yourself comfortable. Come Calo." Davik signaled to Nord who had rejoined them to assess the situation, for 'security' purposes and they left the pair alone.

**Preparations**

"Now you're inside. Welcome to my humble abode." Canderous gave a rare display of enthusiasm.

Pol examined the room. It was Spartan in its design. Clean lines and bare surfaces. There were three beds, a table, some seating, weapon lockers and a clean ensuite. What more could she want? Pol threw herself down heavily on the largest bed.

"Hey!" Canderous protested. "Get your own bed. That one's mine."

"But I'm your guest, and I like this one." Pol pleaded.

"No… You're Davik's guest, now get off my bed!" Canderous argued.

"Fine I'll take the little one… Unless it's Calo's," Pol snickered devilishly as she stood up.

"He has his own rooms."

"Where are they?" Pol asked her eyes wide and innocent.

"WHY do you want to know?" Canderous demanded incredulously.

Pol gave her best little girl smile, "It wasn't part of the tour."

"The question sill stands Valor, why do you want to know?"

"He looks like he worth a bit. He must be on pretty good money." Pol Shrugged.

"You want to rip him off?" Canderous asked in open disbelief. The thought had honestly never occurred to him.

"Something wrong with that?" She asked.

"No, it's hilarious!" Canderous roared with laughter at the thought. _She is insane_.

"So you'll show me?"

"Show you? Hell I'll hold the door open for you." Cackled the merc, "But for now I will order some food, we should get our plan straight before we act. Maybe wait till later tonight when it's quiet." Canderous said all this with a lowered face, Pol noticed but said nothing.

"Good idea." Pol rummaged through her pack for fresh clothing, plucking out items and laying them on her bed.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to the refresher, you know us womenfolk with hygiene… I don't know when I'll get a chance to do that next."

For an egocentric second Canderous wondered if Pol was hinting that _he_ needed a wash. "Fine. I'll be back with dinner soon, we will talk then. Don't let anyone in." Canderous left the rooms closing the door behind him. Pol tested it, and as expected she had been locked in.

_Well I guess he really doesn't want me taking off without him. Hell I'd do the same in his shoes_. Pol said to herself and headed to the ensuite, with a bundle of clean clothing in one hand.

Over dinner Canderous and Pol refined their strategy between mouthfuls of Tarisian cuisine. The conversation drifted off course occasionally as the improbable couple sussed each other out.

"So you know all about us huh?" Pol asked.

"I know plenty about your friends. But there is a lot less information available on you." He admitted. "Owing to that fact, the exchange has had people watching you in particular since you arrived."

"How is that going?" Pol laughed she was an ex scout with a love of battle she doubted there was all that much to know.

"It's not a hard job." Canderous said with a wink.

"Especially not with my busted old stealth unit!"

"That wasn't what I meant." Canderous hinted lewdly.

Pol pointed out the thing that had been foremost in her mind. "I doubt they would have been watching me if you hadn't alerted them to my presence." She pointed out.

"That's true, but I filtered a portion of information for my own benefit. At first I wasn't sure if I wanted to work with you, given your ties." Canderous drew a schematic map of the estate with the scraps on his plate. It was barely recognizable but it served its purpose without their plotting being obvious to any that might stumble in on them.

"By my reckoning the place to start would be the security room; from there you can shut down most of Davik's defense systems." Canderous mumbled the directions from behind his hand.

"Nice art work, now how extensive is this network of cameras? I assume by your discretion that it includes this room?"

"Yes, it does, but it's a visual only, no audio feed for this room. At least there was, but it had an 'accident' yesterday. All the same I figured it was wiser to discuss this over dinner, it's harder to lip read some one who's chewing."

"You're pretty smart Canderous, and here's me thinking you had a fetish for edible art and bad table manners." Pol spotted the camera and made a toast with her ale to who ever was monitoring it.

"Cute." Canderous drawled. "Perhaps you'd like to blow them a kiss too?"

"Ha-ha, you Mandalorians are all work and no play. I think that's why you lost the war."

"I disagree, we know how to play we just don't like the same kind of games as the Republic."

"Care to elaborate?" Pol asked conversationally.

"The reason we lost the war was simple. We met our match."

"Couldn't hack the Jedi huh? They must have been something." Pol breathed, she had always admired Jedi, Bastila Shan being the rare new exception.

"The Republic and the Jedi as a collective were weak; it was their leader the Jedi Revan who made all the difference." Canderous explained.

"Yeah but a single Jedi?"

"Jedi Revan was a supreme strategist and the single most perfect warrior I have ever seen; superior to even Mandalore himself."

"Isn't it against the Mandalorian code for you to say that?" Asked Pol who was a little shocked, and jealous, of the hero worship Revan elicited from Canderous.

"No because it's true. She defeated him, and proved herself the superior warrior. We Mandalorians care only for the glory of battle, win or lose. The skies above Malachor burst like a thousand swarming comets, and before we lost; the galaxy trembled at our feet!" The veteran smiled a little as he relived his glory days.

"But if Mandalorians get their honor from battling worthy opponents, now what? With the war over I mean, a big empty? Mercenary work, bounty hunting, scavenging; your people strewn across the galaxy like jetsam from a fire fight?" Pol regretted her question as it stumbled out. She watched Canderous's face fall. _Oops, too close to home_. She thought.

Canderous was thinking the same thing. _Damn she's hit it right on the mark no point denying it._ "Exactly. Nothing really seems worth my time anymore, there are no battles worthy of fighting. No places I haven't been and no thrills left to be had. At first I thought it was worth it all, but now after so many years it's just depressing. As part of my work for Davik I have had to kill the least worthy of targets, women, and children. I feel dishonored. I would rather not speak of this again."

"I'm sorry Canderous." Pol's apology was heartfelt; she knew the feeling of emptiness only too well herself. Canderous didn't reply he simply cleared away the remains of their abandoned meal.

"I'm going to hit the refresher. When I'm done we should head out." Canderous called from over his shoulder.

With the room to herself Pol set to thinking. _I have to rally myself, I know the layout of the estate thanks to 'Davik I'm-so-great-look-at-my-estate Kang'. And if the information that Canderous has offered me is up to date there is no reason we can't take this facility out. I could even do it alone if I had to. I hope I don't have to…_

Pol told herself she was checking that Canderous hadn't snuck off to 'pull the rug from beneath her feet' as she listened at the restroom door. She could hear him whistling softly and the occasional rap of a razor against the sink as he shaved. She tiptoed back from the door. "Well that explains the scars." Pol whispered to herself as she whipped out her vibroblade and whetstone.

She was putting the finishing touches to the edge on her vibroblade when Canderous returned, shirtless. He was still damp from the shower and the water gleamed in his graying hair. Black inked Tattoos wrapped about his muscled torso and biceps, declaring his rank and clan, as was the Mandalorian fashion.

Being partial to a slice of buff man-flesh Pol swallowed hard and gave herself a stern talking to. _Ok Pol its fine, just don't stare. Don't stare… Don't stare…Oh damn he is so well built… Ah nuts I'm staring. Oh I wonder what that symbol means…Oh crap he has seen me._

Canderous caught Pol ogling him. "Watch it champ, you might cut yourself." He cautioned her as he dragged a clean shirt over his muscular physique. Canderous was plenty scarred up but, aware and proud that he was still in fine form. Strolling over to her he appraised her labors with an erudite manner. "Nice work. If I had known you could get such a first-rate edge on a blade I'd have left you with mine to do as well." To prove the point he retrieved a scimitar from his locker.

"I thought you preferred a heavy repeater." Pol said Looking up from her work; she caught a glimpse of the scimitar. "Oh no, Ordo, what are you going to do with that rusty old thing? Give Davik tetanus?" Pol threw the barb in to lighten the mood, and was rewarded for her efforts. Canderous grinned at her lopsidedly.

"Very droll, but this old blade is a finer piece than the Echani rubbish you're wielding. That thing is more gardening tool than blade." He indicated Pol's weapon with distaste.

"I thought you said the blade was good…"

"No I said the edge was first rate, you did that, not the Echani weapon smith."

"Every tool is a weapon in the hands of a warrior." Pol quoted.

"Stick with me, well go to Nar Shaddaa and I'll make sure pick you up a real blade on the black market, meanwhile be a doll and clean this up for me. If you do a good job I may even let you use it one day."

"Don't patronize me man thing!" Pol hurled a cushion in Canderous's direction; the Mandalorian caught it easily and returned fire with every pillow in easy reach.

"Ammunition depleted." He declared pulling on his boots.

Pushing away the pillows she had been bombarded with Pol set to work on the old scimitar. "Why does it feel like I am being punished for being better organized than you?"

"A woman's work is never done." Canderous quoted teasingly.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Hoard of Nord **

"These are Calo's rooms?"

"Uh huh." Canderous grunted as he beat at the lock with the hilt of his scimitar.

"Stop that, some one will hear you and anyways you'll nark it up, I have a pick.'

"This is the old style of lock," he breathed between bashings, "You can't use a security spike on it…"

"I'm not going to." Pol said as she removed a pin from her long dark hair.

"A hair pin?" he asked dubiously.

"Yep." She said as she bent it into the desired shape.

"That actually works?"

"It's why I keep my hair long enough to hide these in." Pol mumbled resizing the clip with her teeth.

"Unbelievable I just thought you kept it like that cuz it looks pretty." He murmured.

"Well," said Pol as the door clicked open. "You show me a good old fashioned lock pick as good as this and I will HAPPILY wear that in my hair instead…Do you really think my hair is pretty? Actually don't answer that now." Beaming like an angel Pol said, "I don't need you to hold the door open for me, but you could keep a look out for Calo"

Ferreting industriously through the stunted bounty hunters possessions Pol found: A game hunting trophy that looked valuable, 5540 credits, a chain-mail g-string, and a datapad that was serving as a kind of journal. Pol left the undergarment but swiped the rest. To Canderous's astonishment she used her hair pin to lock the door behind herself again.

_The exchange is going to be violently ill if they ever realize how close they could have come to recruiting this one_.Canderous almost felt guilty about stealing her out from under the interstellar crime organization.

"The credits and trinkets I get, but what's with the datapad?" He asked.

"I think it's supposed to be Calo's memoirs."

"Isn't that what old men do when they retire, just before they die?"

"Yeah I think so."

"Perceptive of him to sense his days are numbered. What are you keeping it for?"

"I am going to trade it on the holonet for a packet of crispy fried squid bits and a pair of Jamoh Hogra's knickers!" Pol joked, stashing the datapad in her pack.

Canderous grabbed her arm unexpectedly. Caught completely off her guard, Pol scrambled mentally trying to find a way out. Canderous's grasp was like a vice, there was no escape without fighting him, still unsure of what was happening, and unwilling to start a brawl with her new ally, she relaxed and let him forcibly turn her until they were facing.

"Pol." He said quietly.

"Canderous?" The Mandalorian loomed over her in such close proximity that Pol felt threatened by him for the first time, until he spoke.

"First lesson in stealth: Do not make your company giggle."

"Ha-ha ok, now lemme go." Pol snickered but she could see he had a point.

"We clear?" Canderous demanded stifling a smirk and gripping her arm, a little harder than necessary, to prove his point.

"We're clear." Said Pol sobering up, she was her own worst critic and she knew she had to work on the stealth thing. Who better to teach her than a Mandalorian?

Canderous let go of Pol's arm slowly and said, "Now salute me." The order was delivered in a deadpan, but his eyes gleamed with a challenge so Pol responded aptly by punching Canderous hard, in the shoulder.

Seconds later they were side by side merrily lopping the tin can tops off Davik's security droids. _Stealth this smarty pants_Thought Pol as she raced trying to dismember more droids than Canderous, as quickly as she could. The bots exploded in dazzling showers of sparks, the sound rang loud, a vile crunching clang of frotzs', squees, beeps, dwoos and blarfs. The clank of blade on metal echoed cruelly in their ears.

Once the security office was conquered, Pol accessed the mainframe. Her familiarity with computers enabled her to shut down the remaining droids, take all the turrets off line, disable the Ebon Hawk's security, nuke the cameras and even gas some poor unfortunate Duros they didn't have time to kill.

"Great now let's go pick up your friends."

"Yeah…" Pol said absently activating the comlink to Bastila.

At that exact moment in time the Sith began their now infamous bombardment of the surface of Taris. "Ah crud I knew this would happen!" Pol snarled.

"Maybe it's an omen; we can still leave without them… If you want to." Canderous suggested subliminally. He was still dreading sharing cabin space with a mob of former war enemies. _This is not going to be a fun ride_. He told himself as the landscape they could see transformed to rubble.

"I heard that, and the answer is 'NO WAY', we get them, or die trying. I owe my life to those people and I won't let them down." Pol insisted, and instead of feeling resentful as he would have done, years ago, Canderous nodded respectfully.

"It's ok Pol think I understand." _I must be mellowing in my old age._

"What's this Calo? We've got thieves… In the hanger?" Davik Kang arrived backed by Calo Nord. Both were heavily armed and ready to lay waste to anything that blocked their escape route. "So you do have those codes Canderous you lying scheming bastard! Calo, take care of them for me, while I prep the ship."

"Leave them to me. I've been looking forward to this for a long time." Calo said taking aim. Canderous had a mere second to switch on his blaster shield, but it was enough. He stormed over to the smaller gun toting man and hurled him like a rag doll across the hanger.

Davik ran for the boarding ramp but was cut down by Pol before he could reach it. Having finished off the crime lord in good time Pol turned her attentions to the flying bounty hunter.

"This is my fight." Said Canderous staking out his territory "Go prep the ship I'll be in _shortly_"

Pol made good on the request, contacting a panicking Bastila, one more time to tell her they were on their way.

Calo reached for his long sword as the maddened Mandalorian closed the ground between them. He took a few decent swings that landed emptily. _Ah crap he's using the old Mandalorian melee shield too, the coward._ Calo thought.

As if reading Calo's thoughts Canderous spoke as he pounded Calo's face with a clenched fist. "Necessary force to remove all opposition; I'll use any means to your end!"

"Oh yeah? Well you may have me overmatched, out gunned and out numbered, but if I am going down I'm going to take you all down with me!" Calo yelled as he pulled his arm from behind his back to reveal a thermal detonator. As Calo activate the bomb, the Sith's attack stepped up a notch causing the south side of the hanger roof to cave in. It crushed Calo's body and smothered the majority of the blast. Peppered with shrapnel and bleeding heavily Canderous made it to the Ebon Hawk.

**Safe at last**

"I never thought I'd say this, but I am glad you're here Republic, take over will ya?" Canderous said. The Mandalorian was in dire need of healing. Pol had emerged form the gun turrets, they had just hit hyperspace and were far from danger at last.

"Well, I have to admit I wasn't sure you would come though for us, but I'm glad you did." Carth said accepting the flight controls.

"Ha! Like I ever had an option with Pol on my back." Canderous growled.

Mission threw a tear stained smile at Pol, and scowled at Carth. "I told you she'd never leave us!"

"Where's Bastila?" Pol inquired.

(Meditating,) Zaalbar howled, from the vicinity of the co-pilot seat.

"I could use her help in the med bay when she gets done." Pol said to no one in particular. Supporting Canderous as they walked she said to the Mandalorian, "C'mon lets get your ass to the med bay Ordo."

**Med Bay**

"Nice shooting." Canderous said to Pol.

"Yeah I'm thinking of getting one of those bumper stickers for the Hawk; you know the ones with 'HOWS MY AIM?' printed on them in Galactic Basic… Sorry this will hurt, but you have a hunk of metal in you… Right here, deep breath and I'll get kolto on it as soon as it's out."

"Aaaaaaarg"

"There is out, see? It was a big one too!" Pol said proffering the metal shard that had come from his side.

"You don't need to show me each piece you remove Pol. I felt them all go in remember? Ugh what a perfect time for my melee shield to quit on me."

"No kidding by the way, since no one else said it, nice flying."

"Ha. Thanks. So Valor you fly?"

"Yeah but I can't parallel park…Just kidding. Are you still trying to case me out?"

"Old habits die hard. Damn that hurts, be quick about it! …So do you really fly?"

"Actually I do"

"Then tell me, why was I flying with a hide full of shrapnel?" Canderous groaned.

"Because you didn't give me a chance to, remember? You surged on board and shoved me out of the way. You were all: '_Damnit get out of my way woman! Lets save these diarrheic gizka you call friends quickly before this whole goddamn place blows_!"

"Not so loudly." Canderous sighed.

"Why… Do you care if they hear? I mean it's good if you do, but it seems out of character."

"No, my head hurts and you're too loud."

"Sorry." Pol whispered, slathering the curative kolto into the remaining wounds.

"I'll let you off this time Valor." Canderous said quietly.

"Yeah like you could do anything in this state… Mr. Baddass Mandalorian pfft." Pol rolled her eyes and resumed her field surgery.

"Never underestimate a Mandalorian." Canderous said cryptically as he passed neatly out of consciousness.

"Ordo?" Pol prodded her patient gently. "Ordo? Canderous? Damn I thought that anesthetic would NEVER kick in." Pol shook her head wearily and adjusted her gloves.

Bastila appeared in the med bay in a way that made Pol wonder _is everyone in this crew stealthier than me? _

"How are you doing back here, Carth said you wanted help fixing the Mandalorian." Bastila examined Canderous in a pragmatic way. "You anesthetized him?" She asked still not moving to help.

"Yeah but it took ages to kick in I've done the most painful extraction already, poor guy."

"I wouldn't call him a 'poor guy'." The Jedi began.

Pol summoned a rage from deep within. "No you wouldn't because you are an ungrateful scow! That 'poor guy' saved all our lives and as you're so damn indispensable to the Republic's war effort, he probably saved the Republic too. So if you really don't want to help, nark off and lynch yourself! Now let me do my work you heartless prok!" Tirade complete Pol dispelled her rage, took a centering breath and resumed her work serenely.

**The Cockpit**

Bastila fled a stream of worried thoughts flooding her mind. _She is impossible; the council's plan will never work. Moreover being with that bloody Mandalorian is making it worse. I must speak with Master Vandar before her darkness consumes us all._

"Carth how far are we from the Dantooine enclave?" Bastila inquired stiffly.

"A day or two, Bastila is everything ok?"

"Fine, bloody perfect, if you count Pol biting my head off as a good thing."

"No offense this time Bastila, but you've kind of had it coming," Mission said with a bitter laugh. The young Twi'lek was emotionally holding up, but just barely.

"What have I done? What have I done?" Demanded Bastila getting more agitated with every syllable. Tears of rage and frustration came close to falling_They do not know who she, really is. What she has done. What she may still be capable of. They do not know the pressure I am under. There is no emotion there is peace…_

"It's more what you haven't done, Bastila." Carth said quietly.

Mission filled in the details. "If you don't feel like thanking her for rescuing you and getting us off Taris, you could at least get off her back a bit. She could have let us all down, many times, but she hasn't and she won't."

"Mission is right, She's just a scout, you said so yourself, a late Republic recruit like that is bound to have some spirit. She's not a dyed in the wool Republic soldier like me so her methods are a little unorthodox. But you have to admit she gets results. And despite the mumbo jumbo you've been saying about her Force sensitivity she is not your Jedi apprentice."

(She's just lucky Pol only bit off her head.) Zaalbar woofled to Mission in the Wookiee language; Shyriiwook.

"What did he say?" Bastila asked, for the hundredth time, languages were not her strength.

**Mean While Back In the Med Bay**

Pol closed the up the final wounds and looked Canderous over for any damage she had missed. He looked almost perfect, a little bruised here and there, but the kolto had performed miracles. _What did we do before this stuff was discovered?_ Canderous had proven to be extremely resistant to the sedatives. Pol wondered how long before his super human constitution and cybernetic implant shook their effects.

"Well I'm done. I think." She said to the sleeping Mandalorian. Pol sat beside the prone muscle man and trawled her dark eyes over his form once more, _just incase I missed something_she reassured herself. _Like how incredibly gorgeous he is when he's sleeping. He doesn't even look like a killer right now_

Pol traced the old scar above his lip with her finger, but was startled when he twitched in his sleep_I wonder how he got that one_. _Or if he even remembers_. Was the last thing that Pol thought before she succumbed to the desperate fatigue she had been fighting for days.

Waking to find himself half dressed Canderous frowned. _O hell where have I been_?

Collecting his thoughts and focusing his eyes he familiarized himself with his surroundings. _Med bay, Ebon hawk, where's Pol?_

It took Canderous all of a split second to locate her. _Sleeping Hmmm_. Pol was slumped beside the gurney, asleep with her head laid neatly on her folded arms. Canderous stood shakily. He was feeling poorly due to the anesthetic withdrawal.

"Pol, you shouldn't sleep here. Pol? Huh, still sleeping, well I'm going to pick you up, and take you to the dorms. If you wake up while I'm carrying, you please don't salute me. I don't think I can take it right now. And by the way, yes I do think your hair is pretty."

Zaalbar watched the Mandalorian carry Pol to the dormitories, and decided to follow.

"Hey Pol, too bad you're sleeping, this one is louder than you." Canderous said to the insensible woman in his arms. "Relax big guy, I'm just making sure she gets some where comfortable to sleep." He reassured the Wookiee. "See I'm putting her down… And I'm walking away now that she's safe. I'll be in the garage if she needs me." Canderous wasn't sure what the Wookiee life debt incurred, but he could appreciate a sense of responsibility for the life of another. He had learned that early on in his military career, though not in a way the Republic understood.

Zaalbar expressed what passes for a Wookiee smile. And set to guarding his sleeping mistress.


	4. Chapter 4

**Truth or Dare**

Pol woke to see Mission Vao and Zaalbar hunched over a Plasteel container dealing Pazaak. Mission noticed her first, "Hey Pol, you sleep ok?" She chirped falsely trying to stay positive. Pol took in the vista of grief that shadowed Mission. _Her world is gone. That poor kid, I won't mention it till she does. She might not be ready to face it._

"I guess." Pol, mumbled as she sat up carefully on the low bunk her sleep, as it had been since the crash, was plagued with dreams and she barely felt rested at all.

(I'd hope so. You were out long enough.) The Wookiee groaned.

"How long have I been asleep Zaalbar?"

(The whole day, we're nearly at Dantooine.) Zaalbar rumbled.

"Last hand Zaalbar I have to tell the others Pol's awake." Mission said. The Wookiee and the Twi'lek completed their game and rounded up their respective side decks.

"I think I'll get cleaned up." Pol said with a stretch and a yawn. Zaalbar and Mission left her alone in the dimly lit bunk room to change and freshen up.

Barely seconds after she was done Canderous came knocking against the door frame. "You decent?" He asked as he entered the room, not bothering to wait for a reply.

"Jeesh don't wait for an answer or anything…" Pol complained, although she was decently dressed.

"I don't need to; I have eyes I can see for myself if you're not." Canderous drawled.

"Ha. Smart Alec, so you're feeling better?"

"Yeah, thanks to you."

"Anytime, it was kinda fun actually just like a real life game of 'junior alien autopsy'" Pol joked, swinging her legs against the bunk.

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed yourself…" Canderous drawled. He half filled the small cabin from where he was standing. Pol tried to estimate his height; she guessed around 6'3. _About one foot taller than me _she assessed.

"So what can I do for you Chief?" Pol asked feeling small by comparison.

"It's truth time." Canderous, said with a crooked grin.

"For you or for me?" Pol sought clarification, but laughed good humouredly.

"Both I guess. It's killing me that I know so little about you." Canderous paced the floor restlessly looking serious again.

"Well maybe if you asked the right questions instead of sneaking through my Republic files you'd find out more." Pol suggested amiably.

Canderous paused in his progress to face Pol. "You know about that? I thought you were sleeping."

"No actually I didn't, it was just a guess. But I know Carth still has them so I figured you would eventually find them." Pol admitted. "So what do you know, and what do you want to know?"

"Mostly I know the stuff from your service records. That your real name is _Polly_ and that you were supposedly a scout before you joined the Republic war effort. You were accompanying Bastila on the Endar Spire when it was attacked by the Sith off Taris. You came down in the same escape pod as Carth."

"You don't think it's strange that, of the Republic's newest batch of recruits, I was the only one they sent with Bastila?" Pol asked with a sidelong glance. She had been eager for a second opinion since Carth had raised the issue.

"Perhaps the Republic recognized your talents? Or perhaps they know something I don't like what you really did before you joined them."

"I'd like to think so, but Carth had his skivvies in a twist about it. He seems to think it's strange, that there is some big conspiracy, and I am not sure there isn't, given the way Bastila treats me." She said.

"Hmm it could be worth further consideration. If you're honest with me I'll see if I can find anything out for you champ. But before joining the Republic, what did you really do? C'mon I know you weren't a scout."

"I was too a scout! I scouted new hyperspace routes. 'At home on the fringes of space' that's me!" Pol, drawled unconvincingly.

"Bomadust I have never met a scout that could fight like you before. I'd say you have many more years of combat training than I can fathom and almost as much experience in battle as I do. A scout has no need of such discipline." He took a deep breath and counted out the remaining inconsistencies.

"Not to mention you have the hands of an experienced field surgeon and from what I've seen a respectable aptitude for conflict strategy. Another thing that doesn't seem right is that your service records put your age at least a decade older that I would have guessed. Some one is lying, I wonder though is it you?" Canderous raised an eyebrow in question.

He was more concerned for Pol; Mandalorian's having no love of Republic, _whoever this fine warrior is… Or was… She is being taken for a ride by the Republic and presently I'm in the fracking passenger seat. _

"Lying huh? You sound like Carth." Pol slouched, still fatigued and disgruntled to be drawn into a conversation she felt less than qualified to talk about.

"Ok answer me this, how old are you?" Canderous leaned against the wall for a second.

"37 years." Pol answered truthfully.

"You look 25." Canderous growled accusingly.

"Well I'm really 37, but thanks for the compliment."

"Explain yourself then Polly, cuz I don't buy this scout story one bit."

"Ok-ok just don't call me Polly. I hate that. Lemme see…It's dangerous on the fringes of space. In my travels when I wasn't meeting aliens and butchering them in self defense I learned their languages. I had to sew myself up a time or two. So surgery and strategy, all of that comes from my travels. And if I look good for my age it's because I cleanse exfoliate and moisturize religiously! So tell me have I lost my girlish appeal now you know I am not drastically younger than you?"

"Ha, this 'likely' story would probably make more sense if you actually sounded like you believed in it yourself." Canderous remarked, showing a rare depth of insight. "As for your age, I find you more appealing. I've no time for foolish girls."

"That's good, to know. But yeah I guess I'd like to believe I was a scout." Pol sighed sadly.

"But you don't? Damnit Pol I am confused, do you know your past or not? " He prompted.

"It's not what you think."

"You don't know what I think Valor!" Canderous snapped defensively.

"Well then tell me."

"Given your age and level of experience I'd almost swear you were a veteran of the Mandalorian wars, but you're no Republic trained soldier. I should know I have fought and killed every kind there is. The level of secrecy that seems to surround you could mean that you're some type of felon. Maybe a convict, they let out of the slam for a secret assignment… Or you could have been relocated at some point given a new identity…You could be ex-Sith intelligence bah I don't know." Canderous grumped rubbing his hands over the stubble on his face. "Why are you laughing?" He demanded grouchily.

"The truth is kind of embarrassing. Canderous I don't know if I am a convict or veteran or anything. I don't know who I am. I thought I knew, I thought I was just a scout, honestly believed it. But now I am less certain. I am really confused Canderous and getting more so daily." _I want to tell you that I have dreams where I get strange impulses but you'll take it the wrong way… _Pol thought to herself. "Damn I hope no one can hear this." She said aloud looking about the room apprehensively.

"Ok." Canderous said pausing politely to await Pol's response. When it wasn't forthcoming he lost his patience and growled. "You going to tell me or am I going to wring it out of you forcibly?"

Pol took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling for answers. Tears formed in her eyes and her head began to throb as the first kiss of a migraine embraced her. This happened whenever she tried to think of her past. "I don't know if this is a good place to talk…" She whispered.

"Kid we're on a ship…In space… Nothing to do; no where to go. If we are going to work together I would rather we got this out in the open now!" Sensing her distress Canderous took a seat beside her. _Nice going jerk now you've upset her_. He scolded himself. "You ok Pol?"

"Yeah mostly. Look I don't really know what to think of my past. A week ago I could have told you every detail of every lame adventure I had on the outer rim. But after that crash landing on Taris…I have been having these dreams, some are flashbacks. I KNOW it. I see things I don't recall being present for. Places I don't think I have been…They seem so familiar. Its like I am remembering things from someone else's past."

"Who's past, are you sure it's not your own? Give me an example." Canderous tried to rationalize the information. _Why is it always the crazy ones?_

"I have vivid recollections of key battles I couldn't have possible be present at, between the Sith and the Republic. I checked and my records place me somewhere near Endor at the time, but I don't remember Endor… It makes no sense. The worst thing is that Bastila is in one of my recurring dreams."

"Well now there's proof that dreams aren't always good and they aren't meant to make sense." Canderous reassured leaning closer to hear Pol who had gone impossibly quiet.

"These are visions. More like memories. Definitely NOT dreams." She stated blankly.

"If Bastila is in them, maybe they are her memories some Jedi persuasion thing? Some kind of Jedi mind trick?" Canderous tried to focus, but the proximity of a hot woman was making his mind lazy. _Ordo keep your mind on the job… damn she smells good._

"That's the weird thing; they are not from Bastila's point of view. I can see her in them. The same things over and over, I'm fighting Bastila."

"I hope you're kicking her ass." Canderous chuckled dryly. "You're sure they're not just dreams?" _Could her neck be any more graceful…Great Frack's balls I have to get out of here._

"Positive. So you believe me?" She asked.

"Of course, but I am definitely baffled. I appreciate your honesty though." Canderous looked to the exit eagerly.

Pol pleaded quietly. "I'm not sure if I should speak to Bastila about this yet. Don't tell anyone ok?"

"Of course not, what do you take me for? Look if you need to talk I'll be in the garage." _I better scat before I do anymore damage_. Canderous left the cabin in a hurry, seeking both distraction and distance to recover his composure.

**May the Force Bear With You**

Pol did speak with Bastila about it. After a light sleep in deep space that sent both women leaping from their bunks in alarm they met in the cargo hold for a midnight tête-à-tête. Neither wanted to wake Mission, and after the nightmare both knew there would be shouting.

"What the hell is going on?" Pol yelled, for once uncaring who she woke. It had been **that** kind of vision; the kind where she did unspeakably cruel things and laughed.

"You had another bad dream Pol…"

"Because you sent it to me! Bastila, what the frack are you doing to my mind? The more I am around you the more I seem to lose myself. I'm losing my memories _daily_. Whatever mind trick you are pulling out of whatever sick revenge this is you better stop… Before I forget who I am!" Pol was desperate.

"Pol calm yourself. There is an explanation for this. You are highly Force sensitive…"

"Oh so that means you can easily foist your crap on me is that it? Why me? What did I do to you? Or is it just that I am dumber and more open to mental suggestion than the rest of the fracking crew?"

"I am not doing anything to your mind." Bastila reassured Pol as best she could, without the right kind of training. The gravity of duty weighed about Bastila's neck till she was sure she never walk free of it again. The raw emotion coming off Pol was swamping Bastila, despite her Jedi training.

"Why did you send for me to accompany you on the Endar Spire? Tell the truth Bastila, I'm a green recruit."

"You were sent for because your Force sensitivity was noted. I was the nearest available Jedi who could offer support to you until such time as the Jedi council were able to speak with you."

"You're hiding something Bastila." Pol wiped angry tears away.

"Pol, I have these dreams too." _Should I tell her this?_

"You losing your history too?" Pol snapped savagely.

"Pol, they are visions and you know it. In times of trauma Force sensitive people even those untrained in the Force may form connections as we have, through the Force. The crash of the Endar Spire, the destruction of Taris. Force bonds always happen for a reason. I will speak to the council when we arrive on Dantooine, they will be able to advise us further. Other than that I can not offer you any consolation at this time." By the time her last words were out Pol had already left the cargo hold.

She slept on a chair in the communications room, it was desperately uncomfortable but she did not want to be near the Jedi.

_If she wasn't who she was and if she wasn't so frustrating I could almost feel for her_. Bastila thought as she resumed her hollow rest in the dorm.

**Dantooine Day One**

(Things are so quiet now.) Zaalbar said happily to Mission. They were seated outside the Jedi enclave on Dantooine, 'catching a little sun' as Mission called it, and playing Pazaak.

"Tell me about it, with Bastila off with her Masters' at the enclave a person could get real used to all this relaxing." Mission flipped through her side deck thoughtfully selecting the most adaptable cards; you never knew what hand a Wookiee would play. She had been carefully keeping her mind on the game as a way to escape the pain that filled her in moments of inaction. A shadow passed over her, it was a very large shadow, and a very dark shadow, it '_ahem-ed' _at her. Mission lifted her chin and squinted up to see Canderous looking a tad peeved.

"What are you two doing? Put those Pazaak cards away the stores need re-stocking and I'm not doing it alone." Canderous ordered gruffly.

(Where's Pol?) Zaalbar asked with a wail. He was looking for a way out of the laborious task of carting foodstuffs. Big Z was more interested in emptying the stores than filling them. If Pol needed him for something else he figured he could 'life debt' his way out of the task.

"She has an audience with the Jedi council." Carth, said, he had joined them to help restock the Ebon Hawk.

"Huh? That's weird." Mission said conveying everyone's thoughts in three simple words of galactic basic. "So she won't be helping then?" Mission watched Canderous trying to gauge his reaction. Canderous's frown deepened. _So that's why your so grumpy old man_. Mission laughed to herself. _Men are so dumb_.

**Enclave**

"I am Master Zhar, with me are Masters Dorak, Vrook and Vandar, Padawan Bastila you already know."

Pol found it impossible to keep her mind from wandering through the tedious introductions. _Master Zhar Lestin, that name is familiar wonder, where I heard that before. _

"We would like to thank you for rescuing Bastila from Taris." Master Vrook said succinctly.

_I told you I saved you! Huzzah! I have been thanked at last_. Pol caught herself day dreaming and snapped to attention in time to hear Master Zhar say: "… Your bond with Bastila and …That you are very strong in the Force, and we are considering training you in the ways of the Jedi."

"I thought…Why can't you just sever the bond? I thought you only took kids. Are your numbers that low now? I am really not sure this is right for me." Pol struggled to come to terms with the bombshell. Bastila had already spoken to her of a tenuous Force bond they shared after Pol had accused her of Jedi mind tricking her the day before.

It wasn't the first time Bastila had claimed Pol was Force sensitive. She had mentioned it several times on Taris, but it was the first time Bastila had admitted to dreaming of her as well. Pol's first reaction was utter disbelief but Bastila had depicted aspects of the dream with unerring accuracy over breakfast. Since that 'discussion' Pol had been avoiding Bastila. Pol felt tremendously guilty about her blow up. _Bastila is only doing her job. I'm such a fool. At what point did I become the spoilt brat?_

"As we said you are a special case, nothing has been decided, we must discuss this in detail. Return with Padawan Bastila tomorrow at first light."

The conference over, Pol staggered out into the sunshine feeling as though she had been whacked in the face with a hydrospanner.

"Do you want to talk?" Bastila asked holding out an olive branch cautiously.

"No thanks, I feel bad enough already." Pol almost dry retched at the thought of another confrontation with Bastila. Their last conversation had been a bigger disaster than the med bay incident.

"I was trying to be civil." Bastila said though clenched teeth.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that." Pol answered automatically.

"Yes you did." Bastila corrected her picking up the lie as it fell.

"Ok you got me. But you have to admit our last two conversations haven't been much fun."

"You refer to the med bay where you crucified me and the cargo hold where you fumed at the discussion of our visions and accused me of messing with your mind…" Bastila looked haunted.

"Yeah well you also serve up a mean sandwich of 'I'm the Boss / with sauce / on wry' fairly regularly too I may add. It might be time to invest in a new cook book Bastila."

"You're trying to be funny?" Bastila asked. She was unsure she could fulfill the request of the council. The council had asked her to test Pol to see if she could become a Jedi. Apparently they intended to decide what to do about Pol's training, based in part, on the outcome of the discussion and Bastila's findings about her character in general.

"Trying? I need to work on my act then, cuz I thought I was pretty good. Look Bastila I don't mean any harm. I have no desire to usurp your position; it's a tough job doing what you do. I'm just a thug I know that. I'm beginning to think serving in the Republic's army isn't even right for me. The Taris thing only went against you because you were so well known there." _If I am nice to you maybe they will cut the bond and set me free… To go do scouty things again…Whatever scouts do…Cuz I forget now_.

"That's rich coming from you! Pol you left the planet a celebrity with your Pazaak scams, Swoop racing, professional dueling, not to mention dating an infamous Mandalorian bounty hunter."

"I didn't date anyone." Pol colored slightly.

"You were seen with Canderous in cantinas all over Taris. It was common gossip that you were his new 'friend'."

"It was meant to be common gossip; it was part of our plan to get me into Davik's estate. Besides Taris is gone now." Pol sat down below a tree in the courtyard feeling saddened. _Poor Mission… _

Unexpectedly Bastila joined her. "If that's so, then why are you still seeing him?"

"Is this a trick question? Umm because he's on our ship? O hang on I got it yep. Its cuz I have eyes!" Pol played the fool dodging Bastila's questions like a court jester.

"Pol stop fooling about, you have been avoiding me." Bastila, complained but she was smiling for once, well just a little.

"I have, but only because I see you every time I sleep. Ask me what you want to know and I'll try to answer."

"You're being honest now." Bastila said, looking all Force sensitive.

"I usually am. Could you stop that you're giving me the creeps?" Pol swatted a fly.

"Stop what?" Bastila asked from beyond the veil, she was immersed in Pol's thoughts.

"Feeling me out with the Force or whatever the frack it is you're doing."

"My apologies that was wrong of me. But that you detect my influence confirms the theory of a bond between us." Bastila had not even noticed she was doing it.

"Bond or no, you just keep yer Forces to yourself Bastila!" Pol scolded childishly. "I'm still not convinced that it isn't the only reason I dream about you."

"You know it's more than that. It's ridiculous. Not to offend but why would I want you to dream about me? Your Force sensitivity is what causes us to commune in this way. Our shared trauma of the Endar Spire tragedy has built this bond between us. The Force works in mysterious ways. Yet there is purpose to its every action. Despite this bond I feel that I barely know you." She said wearily.

"What do you want to know?" Pol asked again.

"I would like to know what you see in the Mandalorian. He's not a good man, and people are often judged by the company they keep, especially Jedi's."

"I'm not a Jedi Bastila. They'd be foolish to make me one. I'd be a terrible Jedi."

"Why do you say that Pol?"

"You know I don't have your righteous moral compass, and I'm **not **about to change my friends." Pol admitted.

"It is a struggle for us all, choosing the light path can be as simple as making the right choices."

"I don't need to be a Jedi to do good things; I don't need to be in the army to fight this war." Pol defended herself. "I think I'm doing ok."

"Actually so do I you are an excellent soldier Pol. Whatever happens here do not give up this fight when the Republic is in such dire need. You know being a Jedi isn't all bad," Bastila said looking apologetic.

"It's starting to sound like you want me to become a Jedi. As for the Republic thing, I will make my own decision about that. I can't even remember when I signed on now, let alone why."

"Pol you are …Essentially…a good woman. You have shown great self control, excusing our confrontation in the med bay and your outburst in the cargo hold and the gooey sandwich of martyrdom you trot out every so often…"

"Ha-ha. Oh Bastila!" Pol laughed wiping a tear from her eye. "I didn't think you had it in you!" _What a hoot! I could actually like this girl!_

"I know I may have contributed to these 'episodes' of yours, but you really do have quite the temper." Bastila sighed and soothed herself with a quiet smile. "Pol I've seen you defend all kinds of people in our time together, even the unworthy and I admire that about you."

"Define 'unworthy'. Is this about Canderous again?" Pol's eyes darkened and her mouth set in a hard line.

"Unworthy, some one who can defend themselves I guess, not some one who kills millions in war and calls it a lark."

"We all need defending some times Bastila, even Jedi's. I don't think it is fair to judge Canderous by his past any more than it would be fair to judge you by yours or me by mine. We are all good people potentially; we just some times do bad things. If the Jedi don't believe in redemption, it's no wonder your numbers are dwindling."

"There is a kind wisdom to your words Pol, though you know not what you speak of. I wish you well." Bastila left Pol by the tree.

Pol was beginning to think the tree looked familiar when she heard Zaalbar's speech from across the courtyard. _I wonder what that's all about_, thought Pol as she went to investigate.

The Wookiee hailed her once they were in shouting distance, which can be a _very_ long way if you have the vocal capacity of a Wookiee.

"What's wrong Zaalbar?"

(Mission is trouble.) He grumbled noisily.

"Yeah I know." Said Pol. "Oh wait is she causing the trouble or in the trouble?"

(Both.) Zaalbar answered. Pol knew it couldn't have been too serious, because there was no way Zaalbar would have left her side if it was. This was clearly a matter that caused for tact and conscientious diplomacy beyond the talents of a Wookiee.

"You haven't torn anyone's legs off have you?" Pol asked her furry companion as they hurried to the scene.

(No.) Zaalbar replied with a groan.

"Just checking."

Mission was making quite the scene, with another Twi'lek female. They were arguing about Mission's brother Griff. Pol intervened around the time Mission called Lena a 'brother stealing home wrecker' and got that 'I'm a-kick-yer-butt' look in her eyes.

"Hey hey, whoa what's going on here?" Pol asked.

"This hussy stole my brother and left me stranded on Taris when I was just a kid!" Mission accused.

"Hey now Mission you have some bad information, it was Griff's idea to leave you there, not mine. He left me too as soon as my money ran out!" Lena wailed prying her lekku from Missions grasp.

"Oi, no hair, um head pulling." Pol ordered she was a little unsure of Twi'lek alien biology. "Look before you two get into it I think we should hear from Griff. See what he has to say for himself." Pol suggested once the two girls were apart.

"Good idea, you do that. Mission I am sorry about what happened. I hope one day you can understand. I wish you the best of luck girl, and I want you to know I hold no hard feelings about today." Lena said her piece and left swiftly.

"Could she be right Mission? About Griff I mean. Guys do some dopey things for what they think are the best reasons…"

"That's true, but he wouldn't leave me like that! I don't know, if only I could speak to him."

"I know how much this means to you Mission, first chance we get I'll take you to Tatooine to find him I promise." _So much for blade shopping with Canderous in Nar Shaddaa _thought Pol.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Swoop Garage Ebon Hawk**

Canderous stood by the workbench in the Ebon Hawk's swoop hanger. Surrounded by tools and weaponry, the Mandalorian was in his element diligently maintaining, repairing and upgrading their equipment with expert hands and a plasma torch.

He looked up when Pol entered. He hadn't seen her all day. "I fixed the rend Davik put in your combat suit, using the materials I had to hand. It's not great, but passable."

Pol spied the bed Canderous had laid out in the corner of the garage. He had taken to sleeping there after the first night. Pol's life as far back as she could recall divided itself between bursts of activity and spates of rest. The pattern was deeply ingrained. Pol loved her action but she was the consummate creature of comfort in her respite. Pol automatically made her way the cushiest spot in the room and lay out. "Thank you." She said as her head hit the pillow.

"Get off my bed!" Canderous growled halfheartedly.

"Yeah yeah make me" Pol replied insolently rolling onto her side.

"You ok Pol?" He asked, stowing his tools and wiping his hands on a cloth.

"Yeah just beyond tired; did the stores get loaded ok?" Pol inquired pragmatically.

"Eventually. I put your kid and your Wookiee to work, didn't think you'd mind. "

"Ha, I bet they loved that. Two questions for you Chief, one: What do you think of Tatooine and two: Are you ok out here all by yourself?"

"Answer one: Tatooine is a dustbowl with rocks sticking out there is nothing there, unless you like hunting. Answer two: I'm not one for card games and I am running out of reasons not to slap Bastila so I figure the garage is a good place for me. My turn to ask questions." He took a breath "Question one: Why the sudden interest in Tatooine and two: Are you offering me your charming company?" Canderous arched a brow in Pol's direction.

"Answer one: Mission's brother Griff is reportedly on Tatooine and I promised her we'd find him and answer two: Sure why not, for a price."

"You're a softie Valor." He accused "Tatooine? Bah."

"Yeah I know, but what ya gonna do about it?" Pol challenged as she un-wound her hair poetically.

Canderous watched her movements with an almost chemical enthrallment. _Hmmm._ "Fine we'll go to Tatooine; we might be able to pick up some work there. So what kind of price did you have in mind?"

"For my company?" Pol's grin blazed in the artificial light, "War stories and lots of 'em. You must have millions. I want to hear about what you did during the Mandalorian wars."

"Hah! I knew you were the type. Sure I'll indulge you."

"Excellent! Comfy bed, the soothing voice of an accomplished story teller… I'll be asleep in no time." Pol sat up on one elbow with a grin, just in time to catch the grease stained rag Canderous threw at her face. "Eww. I was kidding! Ordo, seriously, please tell me your stories."

"You really wanna hear?" Canderous asked feeling slightly affronted.

"Yes I really wanna hear," Pol said honestly. She shook her hair over one shoulder and settled in for a good yarn. Canderous took a seat opposite her on a Plasteel crate and began his tale.

**Hours Later**

It was getting late and Bastila had stopped by to remind Pol of their dawn meeting with the Jedi Council. Bastila wasn't the only one who had 'dropped by' while Canderous told his tale and the pair were beginning to feel quite 'checked on'. Carth and Zaalbar had also dropped past on make believe errands to chaperone the errant scout.

"I should probably let you have your bed back." Pol said sitting up after the last intruder left.

"Probably," He said as he yawned into his sleeve. He offered his hand and Pol took it to haul herself up off the low mattress. A moment of awkwardness split the air between them as they stood face to face just inches apart.

"Goodnight." She said abruptly, dropping Canderous's hand, nerves jangling.

He watched her leave, then reclaimed his bed, beating the pillow savagely to remove the slight impression her head had made. _Bah I think about her too much as is without smelling her all night long._He thought, shaking the sheets straight.

**First Light**

Pol sat in the galley sipping her caffa with a grim determination. She was soon joined by Canderous who was one of those types that take more pleasure in early mornings than most people consider polite. Pol put this down to his military upbringing as she winced. The big thug hummed cheerily as he wrangled his breakfast with brute force from the food synthesizer, making far more noise than anyone else on the ship deemed necessary. At last he poured a cup of caffa and scrutinized his traveling companion.

"You didn't sleep well." He noticed, smile fading.

"Hmm? How did you know?" Pol did not like mornings.

"Ha-ha no more war stories for you before bed time." Canderous laughed heartily. He indicated the bags below Pol's eyes and said, "Matching luggage, a dead giveaway."

"Thanks Canderous. Like I didn't feel old and frumpy enough already with Mission around. Not to mention young Bastila bustling about in her gauzy custom made Jedi robes looking like some militaristic joy-girl." Pol sulked draining her cup. _She's so much prettier than me_.

Dismissing her rant as nonsense Canderous set his cup down, "I hear you could have some of you own." He mentioned casually as he took a swig of caffa.

"Pfft, not likely, I'm not their type. That's why I didn't mention it last night." Pol was making a detailed search of the bottom of her cup. _Made in Ara-somethingorother._

"I wouldn't be too sure Pol. Hell even the exchange could see what a valuable asset you could be and they're dumber than a Coruscant granite slug."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. But I hear they only take children and vestal virgins, the pure of heart."

"Well I know you're not entirely pure of heart, but you are the sappiest person I have ever considered a friend, and by far the most worthy of the Jedi mantle."

"Now what makes you say that?" Pol glowed internally from the praise, but still looked outwardly feeble from her hellish night.

"You make 'good' choices. You fight well and you show a great deal of compassion, even if you don't mean to and you rarely loose your cool."

"Isn't compassion a Mandalorian sign of weakness?" Pol asked.

"Not at all, some fights are not worthy of a warrior. Take these Mandalorian scraps raiding the local farms."

"You gonna to take them out?" Pol inquired.

"Hell yes, the cowards. I start today. They are the scum who could not stand defeat and fled the final battles. They do us no credit." Anger flashed behind his grey eyes for a moment. "Pol it is not a weakness to stand by your convictions."

"Ahh so next time we argue I shouldn't back down then?" Pol said jokingly.

"Ha, you should if you're wrong! So what kept you awake? Bad dreams? Did I miss another midnight screaming match with Bastila? I hope I wasn't responsible for that."

"No you weren't… Bastila and I are talking again I'm even back in the bunkroom. It wasn't dreams exactly, something worse."

"Visions." Canderous guessed. He looked disturbed.

"Got it in one Chief. I better go if I want to make this dawn meeting with the council."

Pol handed her empty cup to Canderous with a grim smile and stalked off to meet her fate. _I really should apologize to Bastila again_.

Canderous frowned at the cup. _That cheeky tart I'm not her slave._ He told himself. But he put the cup in the washer, all the same.

………………….

When Pol arrived in the council chambers, Bastila was already present. Pol's consolation was that she looked terrible too. "You didn't sleep well?" She whispered to Bastila.

"No and nor did you." The Jedi returned before shushing her.

"You and Bastila share a special Force bond. Given your aptitude for the Force and this verity we believe it is necessary for you to be trained in the ways of the Force." Master Zhar announced.

"I still don't see why." Pol said.

"For many reasons, among those is your safety and hers."

"Then that is enough of a reason." Pol acquiesced. "I don't want to put her in danger." _I have already upset her enough_.

**New Plans, Old Plans**

For hours after the decision Pol had sat under the oddly familiar tree alone thinking; _Maybe this is alright. Maybe these impulses will pass. Maybe I think too much. Maybe there will still be a way to reunite Mission with her brother. Maybe Canderous won't leave…_

Pol wasn't as keen on the idea of becoming a Jedi as everyone thought she should be. The list of reasons 'why not' seemed as long as her arm and her arm seemed to be getting longer with each passing hour.

After her morning of contemplation Pol decided it was time to seek out company again. She made her way to the Ebon Hawk and paused behind the door of the galley to listen to the conversation inside, timing her entrance accordingly.

"I don't get this at all." Said Carth Onasi, "I mean isn't she a little old for this Bastila? What does the Jedi council want with her?"

"Carth I can't speak to you about this openly, it is a Jedi matter. Pol is linked to me through the Force and if she is to join me in my fight to destroy the Sith then she must be Jedi trained."

"Fair enough, but I still feel like I'm being left out of the loop." Carth complained.

"I think she will make a great Jedi." Mission, said enthusiastically as Pol entered the galley.

"Thanks Mission." Pol had her doubts but thanked Mission all the same.

"Canderous has not returned from his 'project' and the day is getting on." Carth informed Pol.

"I'll go out after him." Pol offered eager for an excuse to be physically active.

"Master Zhar has instructed you to stay close to the enclave. I don't think you should travel further the space port just now." Bastila reminded Pol with an impatient sigh. "Alright, if the bloody Mandalorian means so much to you I suppose I could go have a look for him." She offered ungraciously, but with a note of compassion.

"Look for who?" Canderous asked stamping his boots clean on the boarding ramp. He held the masked head of a Mandalorian raider in one hand and a half used med pack in the other.

"DON'T YOU DARE BRING THAT THING IN HERE!" Bastila Yelled.

Canderous examined the contents of his hands theatrically. After a moment he pointedly threw the half used med pack out the loading door and made his way to the garage with the severed head dripping blood past Bastila as he went.

"I meant the other thing." Bastila said icily.

"Are you going to play a game of 'whose ship is this anyway?' now?" Mission asked. "Cuz if you are I think me and Zaalbar have some where else to be." Mission took her leave of the debacle and Zaalbar trailed after mumbling about his lunch.

"That's not a bad question." Carth said angrily.

"It's the Republics ship." Bastila said. "And he can't do that here. Pol, tell him he can't do that here."

"Do what? Save the local farmers form a bunch of murdering raping thugs that the Jedi refuse to acknowledge? Some one has to protect these people Bastila. The Jedi are all fine and la di ah about using their land for a secret enclave that's very _existence _endangers them, but when they ask for a _little_ help defending themselves the Jedi turn their backs." Pol felt her ire building she spat her words and when it passed she took a deep breath to soothe herself. _See now this is exactly why I would make a bad Jedi_.

"The Sith would never dare to attack the enclave here." Bastila said.

"Bastila, you've seen what these Sith monsters can do, I wouldn't be too sure." Carth looked saddened by the thought. "We never thought they would destroy Telos or Taris but they did. I think Pol has a point."

"The Jedi do not rush into such things without due consideration." Bastila said.

"How long are they going to sit on their hands? Till all the civilians in this sector are dead? They made their decision about me pretty darn quickly. If that wasn't rushed I don't know what is." Pol delivered her message sharply, trying to hold back a stray tear.

"That was not a-" Bastila stopped mid sentence.

"Not a what?" Pol asked almost choking.

"Never mind the matters of Jedi are not for you to question."

"No go on, what were you saying? That was not a what?" Carth pushed Bastila to answer, there was so much the woman wouldn't tell him, but the young Jedi waved him away and left the ship.

Pol went to the cleaning cupboard. Removing the fresh trail of blood seemed the only thing she could think to do that didn't involve a flood of tears, hers or anyone else's.

…………………

"Sorry about the mess. I had forgotten I was still holding the head. I didn't intend on bringing it inside, but Bastila's paroxysm drove me to it." Canderous apologized to Pol awkwardly.

"That's ok it was pretty funny. But can you throw it out soon? You know before it starts to smell or attract bugs…" Pol was a natural born antagonist herself and they shared a dark sense of humor.

"I already did. So they tell me you're going to be a Jedi."

"I don't really want to talk about this." Pol wrung out her cleaning rag into the bucket of water stiffly. She hadn't cried, but still felt close to it. It had all been such a shock.

"Maybe that means you should talk about it." Canderous took the cloth from Pol's hands and tore it in two. He passed half back to Pol and began scouring the floor clean with his portion. "So it's not what you want?" He asked.

"I have no clue what I want. I feel so manipulated I can't tell. I don't know what else I thought I was going to do but it wasn't this." She gave a dry laugh and sat back on her heels folding and unfolding the cloth in her blood stained hands meditatively.

"What about Tatooine?" He prompted. "It sounded like a good plan, a bit soft, but not terrible."

"Exactly, frack I feel awful for Mission, I promised her. I'm such an ass."

"Well you won't be in training forever."

"No I guess I won't but I had this plan…"

"Oh yeah?" He asked.

"Yeah. I was going to hitch a ride with this Mandalorian I know, but I doubt he will be here when I am done training."

"So what were you and this Mandalorian going to do with a Wookiee and a Twi'lek in tow?"

"Find the Twi'lek's brother; maybe hustle up a little bounty work…Swoop racing…"

"Hmm, well the ride wouldn't have been possible." Canderous said.

"Why not?"

"The Republic has confiscated the Ebon Hawk. I don't have a ship."

"Oh no, don't tell me your stuck here?" She said smiling for the first time since her sentence had been handed down.

"Afraid so, but I don't mind for now. It's going to take me a month or two to empty the plains of raiders by myself." Canderous resumed cleaning.

"I admire what you're doing."

"Hell I should clean more often."

"Pfft. You know what I mean. I wish I could help, but the way I see it Jedi don't do that kind of thing."

"What do they do?" He asked.

"Prok all it seems. I don't think there's much chance they will send me to Tatooine once I'm done here either."

"Ha! Look Mission will understand Champ. Don't kill yourself over it. You know… I can imagine them sending you off on covert missions to assassinate Malak and destroy the Sith." Canderous smirked, but there was eagerness to his eyes. Pol recognized it instantly, hope for a decent battle.

"All I know is I am supposedly linked with Bastila through the Force and so they want me to work with her."

"Work with? More like baby-sit I think. Poor Pol." He sounded genuinely sympathetic, and that came as a shock to her.

"It's just so sudden and weird." Pol said as she resumed the mop up.

"Well when you finish your training and they send you offworld on some suicidal undertaking, I wouldn't mind a lift."

"Where to?" Pol bit her lip, and stared intently at the mess on the floor.

"Anywhere the action is, and since it seems to follow Jedi's, I guess that would be anywhere with you." Canderous trailed off at the end of his sentence; Bastila was standing behind them.

"Pol. A word." Bastila snapped; turning on her heel and leaving the craft once more.

In a low but teasing voice Canderous said "You better go. think I got you in trouble with your new mentor…"

"Yeah good one you daft monkey lizard! I'll get you back later." Pol threatened with a sinister cackle.

"Pfft. Promises promises. I'll be here if you want something done right." Canderous laughed rinsing his cleaning rag.

………………………………

Bastila rounded on Pol. "What were you doing with the Mandalorian?"

"We were talking, friends do that. Make some and you'll see."

"Are we back to this stand off again Pol? You have to learn to control your emotions better than that."

"Oh more like _you _do?" Pol said slowly.

"Don't bait me Pol. I'm trying to warn you. Attachments, strong attachments lead only to the dark side of the Force."

"I'm sorry; I will try to remember that Padawan Bastila." _But it won't be easy_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Boot Camp**

Pol found the training to be an enjoyable experience. She excelled in every area, though it was physically and mentally taxing. She had little time to spare for Mission and Zaalbar and less for Canderous. Some evenings she sought him out for company and the war stories that he shared as he cleaned his weapons and mended armor. He had claimed the lives of all but one group of Mandalorian raiders on the plains, and had earned the heartfelt gratitude of the Dantooine farming community.

The appreciation of the farmers was so great that Canderous felt abashed. They had been sending gifts of food and fresh produce as thanks. "It is misplaced. I've been called a lot of things Pol, but hero is not one I have heard before, not like this anyway. I don't think I am comfortable with it."

"Scared you'll feel obliged to help more people in need?" Pol had a way of breaking down Canderous's gruff façade with her easy humor.

"That's not why I took this job. Those Mandalorians put shame to our people. If I help some farmers along the way then so be it. That was not my real intent though."

"Meh, you're a big softie you know that?" She teased.

"Whatever." Canderous replied crustily, though he smiled vaguely when he said it.

As her training progressed relations with Bastila seemed less of a strain, but they were hardly best friends. Pol's competitive streak and their Force bond caused some tension, when they dueled. Canderous had taken to watching the sparring matches when he had time, a detail that troubled Bastila sorely.

"He's always here, when you train." Bastila complained one afternoon.

"He gives me pointers afterwards. If there is a law against it maybe you should tell him Padawan Bastila? Master Zhar doesn't seem to mind." Pol chimed merrily.

"I may speak to him about it. I don't like the idea of him watching when we begin work with the lightsaber. It could distract you." Both women knew there was no distraction for Pol in a fight, but the acolyte was obliged to defer to her superiors.

"As you wish." Pol resumed her preparations, it had only been a week, but she had already chosen her area of specialization and was on the path to becoming a Jedi Guardian. Her next task was building her lightsaber and she wanted it to be perfect.

The progression of her training had been more rapid than she had expected, and there had been whispers of her completing her training with the month, something that had never been done before. While she was eager to leave Dantooine, she felt unprepared for life as a Jedi. _I still don't know what they expect of me._

………………………

"Canderous, could you spare a moment?" Bastila asked politely.

"I suppose," he replied looking sidelong at the Jedi. "What's this about?" He asked.

"Your presence at Pol's training sessions." Bastila stated blankly.

"Ok." Canderous put down his cup of caffa and gave Bastila his attention.

"Do you have to come to every bout?" Bastila dropped her Jedi calm and had a good old fashioned grizzle.

"No, but I like to. It's fun watching her kick your ass." Canderous smirked and the words slid out about his smile.

"She doesn't always beat me." Bastila argued.

"No she didn't always beat you, not in the beginning… But _now_ she does. She's learns _real _fast." _I could watch her fight all day_, he admitted to himself.

"Yes. I had noticed that." Bastila frowned, _how do I put this to him?_ Pol had made Bastila promise to be more civil to the Hawk's crew, and she loathed to admit it but she felt better for it. "Canderous, there is no rule against you watching her, but I would prefer it if you didn't. When she begins work with the lightsaber it will demand her full attention. I fear you may distract her."

"I haven't so far. I was looking forward to seeing her wield a lightsaber." Pol had also asked Canderous and Mission to ease up on Bastila. "But ok. I wouldn't want to hurt her development. Anything else?"

"Well, it's probably not good for you to tell her war stories till all hours of the morning, but I will let that slide providing it doesn't impede her performance."

"You couldn't impede her performance if you cut her head off!" Barked Canderous defensively, "I think your jealous." He accused with a laugh.

"Jedi don't get jealous."

"Or use the refresher! We're pure don't ya know." Pol sang out as she entered the room, "Thin walls I couldn't help over hear that last comment Bastila." She said thumping a panel for proof. "Mmm that caffa looks good. Any one else want a cup?"

"No thank you Pol I just had one." Canderous said graciously. He demonstrated the courtesy; he was capable of to Pol. In doing so the Mandalorian stressed Bastila's, unworthiness. He placed his empty cup in the washer. "I have some work to do. I'll see you later?"

"Sure, same time same place." Pol agreed to Bastila's dismay.

"Do you have to flaunt it?" She asked when Canderous was out of earshot.

Pol gave a girlish wiggle, "It's what nature gave me…" She said.

Bastila rolled her eyes. "Don't be childish."

"Well then I don't understand. You told me to watch my attachments and I have! I have gotten no closer to Canderous than a foot AND for the last time we are just friends." Pol poured her cup and took a seat beside Bastila.

"It is your choice of friends though."

"Which ones?" Pol asked.

"Well obviously Canderous comes to mind first."

"The hero of Dantooine, Huzzah!" Pol raised her cup in a toast.

"Mandalorian mercenary and former enemy of the Republic." Bastila reminded her.

"Former, Bastila, former. The war is over and he gave you his ship without fuss. So who's next? Not Carth surely?"

"No he's fine. Zaalbar."

"Life debt!" Pol said holding her hands up in surrender. "Who are we to demean his custom?"

"Mission?" Bastila said with a sigh.

"Dependent charge of life debt." Pol nodded once decisively. "And absolutely the best hacker/slicer I have ever met. She's better than T3!"

"T3 is a machine." Bastila said with a look of disbelief.

"Exactly! Unlike Mission T3 can't improve, without upgrades, yet all on her own she just gets better and better! The Republic needs more people like Mission."

"Ok you've made your point; perhaps I am too harsh on them." Bastila conceded.

"Face it Bastila you will lose our first lightsaber duel, not because I am better than you but, because you don't have a leg to stand on!" Pol teased.

"Does your confidence know no bounds?" Bastila laughed, she was starting to get the hang of the woman's humor. _She will probably best me with a lightsaber because she has more experience with one than I do_ Bastila thought.

…………………………

Pol slunk into the garage.

"So she done saving you from me?" Canderous asked blandly.

"Daaaamn!" Pol cursed. Since they had arrived on Dantooine, Canderous had been giving her pointers on her dueling style and coaching her in stealth practices. For weeks she underwent rigorous lessons under the former Mandalorian General.

When he decided she was ready at last; he set her a challenge. Her goal was to sneak up on Canderous and disarm him. So each evening she had tried to sneak up on the warrior, and each time he had known she was there before she got within 5 feet, stealth shield or no.

"I got this much closer tonight." Pol said holding her fingers a hairs breadth apart. "What did I do this time?"

"Look under your feet." Canderous directed without looking up from his work.

"Sand. You put _sand_ on the floor, that's so unfair."

"Take it as a compliment, you are actually getting better. Plus you need to be able to walk any surface, in any condition quietly. Expect the unexpected and be alert."

"You're a lert." Pol said cheekily.

"Don't call _me _a lert, you cheap floozy."

"Ugh I'm wounded." Pol gave in to theatrics holding her chest as though she had caught a blaster shot. "Cheap am I?" She dramatized.

"Yeah, you smile for war stories."

"My smile?" Pol grinned luminously at his misguided flattery, "Is that all you want?" The banter flowed with ease between them.

"If it's all I can have then it will have to do." Canderous quipped putting the finishing touches to his labors.

"All you can have? Is this the Jedi thing again?" Pol plunked down on his bed.

"Yeah, and get your boots off my bed." Canderous complained as he set aside his work.

"Poor Canderous, here you can have my boots too Chief." She joked as she removed them and threw them to Canderous. "Nice catch."

"Huh. Thanks a bunch doll." Canderous stashed the boots out of Pol's reach, high in an overhead cabinet.

Her face fell. "Uh you know I was joking right? I'm a need those back tomorrow morning…" Pol pointed a long finger in the direction of the locker. Canderous ignored her. "Uh Chief? Canderous? Ordo!" Pol protested.

Canderous leaned against the work bench which was still littered with remnants from his work. He stared at Pol. Pol stared back. "It will cost you." He said at last.

"How much?"

"A conversation."

"About?" _Please not that, not now Canderous._

"About you." Canderous looked deadly calm and unshakably focused. It reminded Pol of the look that very small dogs get when they see an ankle they plan to maul.

"But I don't have much to say." _Ok so it's bad, but not as bad as the 'other' talk we need to have…_

"Then tell me about it anyways. How are these dreams going?"

"Still happening, but more focused now… I think." Pol went quiet, unsure of what else to say.

"This is going to be like pulling teeth isn't it?"

"Not if you ask the right questions." Pol reminded him as she smoothed the creases from his pillow.

"Ok then, what do you think about?"

"A tree. There's a tree near the academy and I swear I know it from somewhere, but I have never been here before. It feels familiar. Also I am scared." Pol admitted.

"What about?"

"Wait you're not teasing me about that?" Pol asked looking a bit confused. Canderous had a way of catching her off guard by warping from a belligerent tease to Mr. deadly serious.

"Hell no; tell me more." Canderous leaned forward.

_And now he looks like a hungry Firaxa_, Pol observed. "You're really interested. Is that cuz I don't say much?"

"No it's because I care, now tell me what's buggin you before I lose my patience."

"Is that a challenge Chief?" Pol asked, raising one eyebrow. She was eager for Canderous to warp back to tease; it had been a long day.

"Don't change the subject Pol." Canderous grumped.

"Ok. So I'm not really scared, more freaked out. All those memories I had of my 'scouting days' have been falling out of my head."

"Falling?" A single silvery eyebrow shot up in surprise.

"I'm loosing them, but the more I work with Bastila the more memories I have of other …Stuff. First I thought I was just channeling her that some how she was messing with my mind wiping my memories and replacing them with hers but now I'm not so sure."

"Can she do that?"

"No not Bastila personally, that's not her strength, and I don't think she would…But other Jedi can." Pol caught the look of concern on his face like an armful of roses. _He's really worried about me! I probably shouldn't be telling him this then._

"Could that have happened already?" The alarm was clear on Canderous's face. _If they have done anything to her I will kill them. No I'll maim them, torture them till they apologize and then butcher them._

"I think I would remember that …Ha-ha I'm kidding. Hell I don't know. I'm trying not to think about it too much that's why most times I'd rather listen than talk or think, so tell me a story?"

"Ok but before I do, Bastila asked me to stay away from your training sessions. I'm going to respect her wishes…This time."

"I thought she might." Sighed Pol. "You still going to teach me stuff?"

"Only until you can take my boot knife without out me noticing."

"What happens after that?"

"By then I believe I will be the one asking you for pointers." Canderous smiled proudly and rolled into story telling mode.

**Raiders**

After the council was informed of a recent vision shared between Bastila and Pol, they met in seclusion to evaluate its significance.

"Through their vision, they have located a Star Map here on Dantooine, within the old ruins. Their vision places Revan and Malak at the site, at the beginning of their fall to the darkside." Said Master Vandar surmising what he had been told. Stepping back the tiny wizened alien gave the floor to Master Dorak, who held the position of chronicler for the academy.

"These ruins have been long known to us. They were sealed because of the dark taint upon them. That some kind of Star Map lies within comes as no surprise. I propose we send Nemo to investigate further. There is a chance by examining the path walked by Revan and Malak that we may discover a means to overcome the Sith threat."

"A risky proposal, but if Nemo is the one to go then it has my support." Master Vrook granted.

"Should we not consider sending Pol and Bastila? They are the ones who had the vision; it would be an opportunity for us to observe their work together, and for them to begin their partnership." Zhar was eager for his best pupil to begin her final trials.

"Certainly not, what if her return to the place triggers something?" Vrook protested.

"Pol has not strayed from the lightside, whilst bound to Bastila her memories could be used to our advantage." Said Master Zhar.

"And if they can not?" Vrook asked urgently. "What then?"

"At present her heart is pure, and Bastila will not let her lose her way again." Assured Master Zhar soothingly.

"We must tread carefully. Perhaps it is best for an experienced Jedi to investigate the ruins first, if the taint of the darkside is still strong in the location." Master Vandar suggested. "We will speak of this again after Nemo has made his report."

Canderous leaned out from the window, landed silently on the grass and made his way back to the space port stealthily. He slunk quietly aboard the Hawk and made for the refresher. Canderous had no intention of powering his stealth unit down until he was hidden from all view.

"Canderous? Damn where is the guy when you need him?" Carth grumbled, in frustration.

"I'm here," said Canderous stepping out of the cubicle. "What do you want?"

"I have a message for you from 'Jon'. Apparently the last troop of Mandalorians has been seen east of the Sandral estate. I could go with you." Carth offered.

"I could use the back up this time round, these guys have been elusive," he admitted fairly. "If we move quickly we may still catch them there." The biggest problem Canderous had encountered was tracking the Mandalorian rogues over the vast plains of Dantooine without a land speeder.

Carth and Canderous were preparing to leave the Hawk when Pol arrived. It was still early in the day a time where Pol would usually be at the enclave immersed in her studies "Where are you off two in such a hurry?" She asked curiously. The former enemies rarely spent time in each others company willingly, and now they looked like good friends off on a fishing trip.

"Why aren't you in school missy?" Carth asked in a brotherly tone.

"I have some one to find out on the plains little brother. I think its part of my final assessment." Pol smiled; rubbing her hands together excitedly, ready for action.

Canderous noticed that a lightsaber hung at her side in place of the vibrosword. "Nice piece. They letting you wield that thing in public now?" He asked with a crooked eyebrow.

"Yep." Pol said proudly.

"Wow, you look at you all grown up like a… like a real Jedi…Uh, we have this thing to uh do on the um plains." Carth smiled and stumbled on his words, he was honestly taken aback by Pol's appearance. His voice was edged with pride.

Canderous frowned jealously at Carth. He touched Pol's arm and interrupted the younger man's rambling. "Wanna come kill some raiders?" He asked Pol flirtatiously.

"Why Canderous, I thought you'd never ask." Pol bowed as though accepting the offer of a dance and the three soldiers left the space port, heading east.

Jon's information was sound and the company came upon the Mandalorian raider's camp just two miles east of the Sandral estate. Carth scanned the horizon while Canderous counted the men.

"Six, Duros and three Mandalorians. Carth, give us some cover fire, take out the Duros, Pol and I will engage the leaders." Canderous gave his orders in a hushed voice, but it was clear from the movement in the camp beyond that they had already been spotted.

"Now this is what I live for!" Canderous yelled charging the enemy. Carth fired on the Duros, killing three in quick succession before they could return fire.

Not to be out done Pol drew her light saber and summoning the Force hurled herself 20 meters through the air; landing neatly in front of the commander. The enemies locked in a fierce battle.

"I have killed many Jedi before, and your saber will be a fine trophy for my collection" The Captain threatened her menacingly. Unperturbed by the threat Pol took the large mans feet out from under him with her leg and stood over him with her light saber aimed at his heart.

Before she could make the killing stroke the spare Mandalorian tackled her beating her to the ground. Pol Force shoved her attacker out of range with a burst of Jedi magic. In the time it took her to shake off the spare Mandalorian the commander had regained his ground. His broad sword bit through her armor slicing her arm from elbow to shoulder as she ducked away form the brunt of the blow. The wound was not deep and while the Mandalorian reeled from the effort of his mislaid stroke Canderous (who had already finished the second Mandalorian raider) took off his head with a clean swipe of his scimitar.

Pol looked back to the spare Mandalorian who had ditched his vibroblade in favor of a Bothan designed blaster. Carth was in his firing line, still occupied with the last Duros.

"Hold it right there." He demanded aiming at Carth's head. "Or I'll shoot."

"Carth get down!" Pol yelled and leapt between the blaster fire and her pilot. She neatly deflected the shots with her lightsaber bouncing them back at the Mandalorian. With his shield disabled he was struck dead instantly with his own ricocheted blaster fire.

"What a mess." Exclaimed Pol as she surveyed the ex battle scene.

"I am so glad that's over. And thanks Pol." Carth shook his head at the carnage.

"That was barely a challenge." Canderous growled grumpily. He lifted the body of the commander and began to build a corpse pile. "If this feeble excuse for a Mandalorian killed any Jedi they can't have been much chop."

"Not like our Pol here. That was amazing." Carth gloated.

"No that was rubbish." Pol whined wrapping her injury in a kolto soaked bandage. Her wound would be healed by the time she removed it. _I shouldn't have been hurt at all_

"It sure wasn't great. Why so stiff? Is it the new weapon or the Force that's got you all:" Canderous made a rigid grimace to show Pol what he thought of her performance.

"Hah, I wasn't all:" Pol returned the rigid grimace to Canderous. "I was just unfocused."

Carth answered the bleeping of his personal communicator. It was Mission.

"You guys some one needs to get back to the Hawk, we have a stowaway problem. Big Z found a kid hiding in the stores."

"You got it Mission, I'll be right there." Carth responded quickly. Carth was the only parent in the crew, and while he occasionally got the wrong side of Mission, he was generally regarded as the expert on kids. "I better go see what this is about. I'll see you guys back at the Hawk." Carth said his farewell and marched off towards the enclave and spaceport.

"I found a lightsaber, well three actually. You want one Canderous?" Pol joked.

"I'll pass." He said loading the last of the bodies grimly onto the pile and lighting it. Pol kept the lightsabers certain that, Master Dorak would want to see them at least to identify their owners.

"Ahh I love a good bonfire." Laughed Pol, She had always been detached when it came to the dead. "I know its lunchtime and we have no squishmallows to toast, but you could tell me a story while we eat our rations by this here campfire."

Canderous laughed, dodging the smoke. "Let's go. The fire has no where to spread to, we can leave it to run its course."

"Great I can go find my missing Jedi." Pol enthused as she dusted herself off.

"A missing Jedi?"

"A Jedi who lost her way. Master Zhar was pretty cryptic so I am guessing he means that she lost her way in both senses of the phrase." She scanned the horizon for any stragglers they had missed. If there were any scouts or outriders they would have been drawn to the blaze by now. She could barely make out Carth's form to the far west with her eyes, but using the Force he rang clear and true.

Suddenly an idea occurred to her. "I need to sit for a moment; I think I can seek her out with the Force." Pol crossed her legs and sat down.

"Well if I had known **that **I would have been able to find this last group a lot sooner." Canderous complained.

"I didn't think of it till now. I guess this will be second nature to me when I am more experienced." Pol fell quiet and threw out her senses in all directions. She felt the active hub of the enclave, as a concentration of Force sensitive souls to the west.

She could sense Kath hounds, Iriaz and other native fauna all about her but she was drawn by a corruption in the Force. _The ruins from my vision_, she acknowledged.

South of the ruins she located a solitary Force sensitive soul, not completely malign but bursting with anger, uncertainty, fear and self hatred.

"Found her." Pol said. She took a swig of water from her canteen and offered it to Canderous. He took it, drank and returned it wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Is she far off?" He asked.

"Yeah, maybe half a day walking, if I seek her out now there's no way I will be back by nightfall."

"Need company?" Canderous was hoping Pol would accept; he'd had time to think about the morning's reconnaissance and seeing Pol with her lightsaber had struck a chord he couldn't identify. _We need to talk_.

Pol winced, guiltily, she didn't really need company, but his was always welcome. "If you're gonna walk me home I guess you better stick around." Pol said with a grin. She reached for her comlink and sent a message to Bastila. The signal was of a poor quality and static marred the transmission.

"Pol, how is your task going?" Bastila asked kindly when the reception cleared.

"Not too bad, we ran into the last of the Mandalorian raiders, but I have located the missing Jedi. She seems to be a great distance from here. I won't be back till after nightfall." Pol communicated through the static patiently.

"It is important you find her as soon as possible Pol, do not underestimate the gravity of the task you have been assigned. Is Carth still with you?" She asked.

"No he left a while ago he should be back at the Hawk soon, but I have Canderous with me." Even through the static Pol could tell that Bastila had turned her eyes heavenward.

"Then don't forget what we spoke about. Come see me you as soon as you return." Bastila cut the connection and blipped out of view.

"We need to talk." Canderous said when Pol put her comlink away.

"Uh oh." Pol laughed nervously.

"I overheard something when the council met this morning."

Pol choked. "You spied on the Jedi Council?" She was mortified by the thought. "What possessed you to do that?"

"A lot of things, do you want to hear what I have to say or not?" Canderous asked gruffly.

"Does this concern me?"

"Yes, it does. They said that you had been to Dantooine and implied that you had fallen to the darkside before. They mentioned using your memories to help defeat the Sith."

"I knew that tree looked familiar." Pol said. "If I fell to the darkside I must have at least trained here. What do you think?" _How did I fall_?

"I know, they have plans to use you and I know that Bastila is in on it. Zhar's words suggested she was responsible for keeping you 'lightside'. By your experience as a fighter I would say you were not just trained, but a fully fledged Jedi knight."

"That could explain why I breezed through the early training." Pol was staggered by the information. She felt under attack, not by Canderous, just by the whole Jedi council, Bastila and the Republic.

"Or why they are in such a hurry to get you through it again. While we're usurping Carth's position as head conspiracy theorists, what's the real reason you like to hear my war stories?"

"You tell a good tale, and I find it interesting." Pol replied honestly.

"Why are you so interested? It isn't to hear an old man relive his glory days." Canderous drawled.

"Yeah it is! Well in part. I guess they ring true for me. Some of them have even related to my visions, but from a different viewpoint."

"If you had visions or memories, about the Mandalorian wars, I'd say that's because you served in them. They said you had been here on Dantooine before. Don't you remember anything about it?"

"Not really, every time I try to think about my past it I get a roaring headache for my troubles. Perhaps I was one of the Jedi who followed Revan and Malak to the outer rim after the war?"

"If they wiped your memory, it would explain your visions and flashbacks, but not your supposed "link" to Bastila. I think they intended to bring you here and let you loose on the trail of your old comrades."

"You're probably right. I wish you weren't though. I need time to let this sink in, we should get moving again." Pol stood and pointed in the direction of the lost Jedi. "She's that way, oh and no more spying ok? It's not polite and probably safest they don't suspect I know anything."

"You got it."


	7. Chapter 7

**Lightsaber**

Canderous kept pace with Pol easily as they walked. "You don't seem comfortable with your lightsaber. I could give you a few pointers before you face this fallen Jedi."

"Canderous, no offence but what do you know about lightsabers?"

"None taken. The best way to learn about a tool of rage some times is to be on the receiving end of its damage." He explained distinctly.

"It's not supposed to be a tool of rage… That kind of thinking leads to the darkside. Great now I sound like Vrook or Bastila."

"At least you recognize it. But I have faced many Jedi of differing alignment in my battles and I can tell you, point one, your stance is wrong. Not incorrect but wrong for you."

Pol stopped walking. "Well you know I value your opinion. And I would appreciate your tutelage if you're offering it. So what's wrong with my stance?"

"No doubt its one of the simple styles the Order commonly uses; but it has none of your own personal flair. Pol you're an amazing warrior and an incredible athlete, you should try to loosen it up a bit. I'll show you what I mean." Canderous drew his scimitar and held it loosely by his side. "Draw your weapon but don't attack me, this is a demonstration, not a sparring match."

Pol burst into a fit of giggles trying to imagine how a sparring match between the two of them would go. "What are you laughing at?" Canderous demanded impatiently.

"This, you, everything really, are you afraid to fight me?"

"Pol have you been in the _sun_ too long! If I am its only because you may injure yourself flailing that thing about like an amateur." Canderous smirked dryly.

"Amateur? I'd kick your butt and we both know it." She teased.

"Your head's not on right." Canderous made the intergalactic gesture for madness at his own head to hammer his point home.

Ignoring the finger that Canderous wriggled at his ear Pol goaded him further, "I'd make you cry big man."

"You're all talk. You ever really want to take me on you let me know and I _will_ be there." Canderous locked eyes with Pol in a way that was not unfriendly but unmistakably challenging.

"Since you Mandalorians don't make threats I am I to take that as a promise?"

"If you like, but for now draw your weapon."

Pol drew her lightsaber.

"Now look at the way that you are holding it. Focus."

Pol stood in the stance she had been taught, it still felt unnatural. Too slow cumbersome. The lightsaber felt heavier than a planet, a blunt instrument of accountability. She reached out to it with the Force and felt over burdened and off balance. It felt too heavy in the hilt and ineffective in the blade.

Canderous's next instruction bought her out of her reverie. "Ok now take my sword." He said offering her the hilt. Pol disarmed her lightsaber and took the scimitar in her hands.

"Hold it the way you would your old sword." Pol did as she was asked and the connection she felt between herself and the sword was near perfect. She felt a familiar freedom to her movements. Pol twirled about with it testing the air and showing off a little.

"Yeah yeah you're very clever now give it back." His voice was a growl but he smiled all the same _beautiful_.

Pol returned Canderous's blade. "Now tell me which is heavier? The lightsaber or my sword?"

"The lightsaber," Pol answered without a second thought.

"No it isn't. They're the same weight."

"Give me that back." Pol ordered with an outstretched arm. She did not believe a word of Canderous's claim. "Hmm you're right." Pol said as she compared the two.

"So why hold your lightsaber like it's a ten ton baton? Why do you move around it instead of moving it around you? I could tell you what else you're doing wrong but I can see from your expression that you're already working it out." Canderous smiled in approval.

"Yeah I think I do. I want to test this out though, so how about a quick sparring match? Then you can see exactly what I am doing wrong!" Pol drew her lightsaber and refocused herself.

The lightsaber felt completely different. Evenly balanced and beautifully crafted. The finest blade she had ever held. Capable of slicing a man clean in two. She tested herself, drawing on the Force to gauge her freedom of movement and felt triumphant_I have faith in my weapon and I am free._

"No." Canderous said blandly.

"Huh? But you promised and now I am dying to test this out!" Pol complained holstering her weapon.

"If you want to fight me it has to be Mandalorian dueling rules, battle ring, hand to hand. I couldn't draw a weapon against you Pol; don't ask me to."

"Ok then what about Force powers?"

"Ha! If you think your going to need them to best me then _sure_ you can try a little magic." Canderous laughed teasingly.

"You're twice my bodyweight," Pol pointed out. "And you have the height advantage."

"It's the size of the fight in the Kath hound not the size of the Kath hound in the fight. You don't need to challenge me Champ, I could beat you without throwing a single punch and you'd be lucky to hit me at all in the time it took me to disable you. We both know who the superior fighter is." Canderous grinned smugly pointing his thumb to his chest.

"One more smarmy arsed comment like that and you're going down!" Pol threatened her excitement building.

Canderous looked Pol up and down slowly and deliberately and said, "Valor, you _wouldn't_ have the guts."

Pol threw herself at Canderous thumping him in the solar plexus. If Pol could have seen his face as he buckled over, she would have been blinded by his smile.

Canderous threw his arms wide to catch Pol before she leapt back for another attack, but found himself snatching air. A sixth sense made him duck just in time, and he narrowly missed being hit in the jaw by Pol's foot. _That's one hit to you_thought Canderous as he caught and blocked Pol's fist. _That's a miss Pol._

Pol bought her free hand up and smacked Canderous on the back of his head, the shock caused him to let go of her other hand. Pol did a back flip to gain some distance from her opponent. "Ha-ha your going down man thing!" Pol laughed as she circled gracefully.

Canderous stood awaiting Pol's next assault. _That's two hits to her._ When it wasn't forthcoming he taunted her. "You've hardly hit me. What are you afraid to break a nail?"

"Why haven't you even tried to hit me Ordo, afraid you'll miss?" Pol teased back.

Canderous lunged at Pol suddenly, catching her this time. He pulled her arms behind her back and stood with his own arms wrapped about her in a constrictive embrace, his front to her back. Every time she tried to move he tightened his grip. _And now you're mine._

"Nu huh ha, I got you now Valor. I win NO way out." Her hair was in his face.

"No I won because I hit you more than once." Pol could feel Canderous's breath on the back of her neck and her own breath being squeezed out of her lungs. The thought of both made her dizzy.

"But you won't be hitting me again because I have disabled you without throwing a punch, as promised. So I win."

_His mouth is right close to my ear, maybe I can head butt him and get free that way_? Pol wondered. _I am not using Force powers, there must be another way. _"I could get out of this hold easily." Pol gasped as she tried to break free. She squirmed a little to test the waters and then struggled with all her might.

Canderous laughed, enjoying his moment of victory. "You won't get away." He assured her as he held her back. From Pol's view it seemed effortless, but in truth his muscles were bulging enviably with the strain.

"Oh no, what if I do this?" Pol asked rhetorically as she stamped down on Canderous's boot, hard.

"Do what?" He asked nonchalantly. _Frack's balls that hurts!_

"Arrrrrrg." Trying a final bid for freedom Pol threw her whole body weight around, hoping that Canderous was growing tired from his efforts at restraining her. When her last ditch maneuver failed she asked in a pitiful voice "Uh Chief? Could ya lemme go now?"

"Ok Champ, but as I am the honorable victor, you have to say I won."

"I won." Said Pol with the barest giggle she could manage as oxygen starved as she was. _Any more of this and I am going to pass out._

"That's great you just keep telling yourself that Pol cuz in about a minute you're going to start to feel sleepy." Canderous warned.

"Ok, you won, now lemme go." She conceded.

There was a twang of corporeal disappointment between them as Canderous released Pol from his grasp. Almost as if to ease the parting, they shook hands in a gesture of friendship and to consolidate the end of the bout.

Out of the blue Canderous said, "If you could remember your training, your initial Jedi training I mean, that might help you overcome your mental or emotional block about lightsabers."

"That's supposing I was a Jedi, and what makes you think my block is emotional or mental?" Pol inquired as they resumed their trek.

"Physically you have the potential to brandish a lightsaber better than any Jedi I have ever seen. So that leaves mental and emotional. You seem to be clearing that up pretty well on your own, but knowing more about your past might help."

"Then tell me about the Jedi you fought. It may jog something." Pol insisted.

"You know the more I see you as a Jedi the more familiar you look. And it's not just cuz I know you better."

"Do you think we faced each other in battle?" Pol asked feeling overwhelmed.

"We might have." Canderous dryly admitted.

"Any idea who I was?"

Canderous stopped in his tracks. "I don't want to sound like Carth but I have one theory. I would like to keep that to myself for now. Since you have banned me from spying on the council any further my theory will have to remain one old veteran's paranoid delusions."

"It's just as well you don't want to sound like Carth cause Carth gives me the gizkas he's like the dopey younger brother I never had…" Laughed Pol. "If I turn out to be who you think I might have been, will this affect our friendship?" Pol eyes said what she could not:_ don't leave me_.

"No but I'm just speaking for myself. Look I don't care who you were or what you did, I doubt it could be any worse than the things I have done and seen. I don't even care what you do in the future. I enjoy your company and I respect you. You need some one you can trust Pol. I'll be that guy any way I can." Canderous returned her gaze reassuringly: _I'll never leave you_.

"Canderous that is the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me," Pol said trying to dislodge the lump in her throat.

"You're not going to get all girly on me and cry now are you?"

"No but I might hug you." She looked down at her feet smiling and blushing.

"It's probably best if you don't." He said emptily.

"Why's that?" She asked, with an inviting smile. She figured hugging Canderous would be a challenge. Nothing about the Mandalorian said 'cuddle me' but Pol still thought it sounded like a worthy objective.

"No telling what ideas, I might get if you do." Canderous purred lightly, flirting back at her.

"I think I know why Jedi can be so aloof and uptight now." Pol groaned.

"Oh yeah?" Canderous mused, his face forming a wry grin.

"They are all frustrated, from lack of affection. No one hugs them. They never get _any_. And to avoid attachment means having almost no friends….Arg no wonder Bastila is so down all the time and so chaste. I'm going to have to be nicer to her."

"So this is what you are signing up for?" Canderous seemed sad, his grey eyes were looking a full fifty something years for once.

"Frack, pox, boma dung and a bucket of Hutt snot." Pol kicked the ground, stubbornly. "I don't know. I told them Jedi or no, _I wouldn't_give you up."

"Pol, you realize that makes me sound like your plaything?" Canderous asked screwing his face up in shock.

"Uh," Pol gave a nervous giggle. "Sorry, umm did you want to be?"

"Meh, the idea has a certain _distorted _appeal." Canderous took Pol's hand and drew her close. His tone was dry but his face revealed his unconditional affection for her.

With one hand on the small of her back and the other tilting her jaw gently upward he drew her close. "I shouldn't be doing this." Pol mumbled as Canderous leant towards her mouth.

He said, "You aren't a Jedi yet. And you're not doing this. I am." Right before he kissed her.

**Juhani – Sometimes Redemption Has Claws, More Often It Has A Cute Accent.**

The sun was setting when Canderous and Pol neared the fallen Jedi's dwelling. "She is just over this rise; I want to talk it out with her. Stay here and don't come after me no matter what you hear, your presence may only anger or frighten her further." Pol placated Canderous when she noticed his apprehension.

As if soothed by her words he calmly agreed to the plan, in part. "If you're sure, then I will wait. But I won't wait long, if you're not back in half an hour I come looking."

Seeing no way out of the arrangement Pol agreed with a smile and a short nod and left him to find the Jedi.

Juhani sat meditatively drawing energy from her environs. About her lay the bodies of several Mandalorian raiders who had strayed to close to her territory. While she seemed oblivious to the stench the corpses emitted, she keenly felt Pol's approach and leapt to a fighting stance with a war cry. "I will be your doom!" She yowled stunningly.

"Ah nuts." Pol said; as she drew her weapon. She threw up a gust of wind strong enough to knock the fallen Jedi to her backside, but it was annulled by Juhani's unnaturally fortified powers.

Their lightsabers came together with a drone of Force fueled energy; but the fallen Jedi's thrust and parry was quickly overwhelmed by Pol's regained artistic sweeps and mighty hacks. The clash was over as quickly as it had begun, and the fallen Jedi supplicated falling to her knees in defeat. The cat like woman's dark cloak of pride fell from her shoulders in a heap as she landed.

"You are so much stronger than me, even with my fill of dark energies." She murmured with a delightful Cathar accent.

"Who are you?" Pol asked delicately, she was deeply moved by the woman's inherent melancholy. It radiated throughout the grove and had been sending the animals into a frenzy as the sentient emotion overcame their innate instincts.

"I am Juhani and this is my grove, my place of dark power. If you have come to kill me please do it now." She lowered her yellow cat like eyes; shame spilled out of them the warm tears dampening the light fur that covered her entirely.

"I did not come to kill you." Said Pol. "I sensed you out on the plains and came to talk."

"Talk? Talk about what? I have slain my Master Quatra and fallen to the darkside. There is nothing else to say."

"How did you kill her?"

"I slew her in anger during my training. It was not my intent, but I could not control my emotions or stay my own hand." Juhani keened lightly sobs wracking her as she wept.

"Juhani, one accidental death does not the dark-lord make." Pol sleazed in a touch of her own humor, "I can tell you did not intend to kill her and that you regret it now. You are not evil; you are a beautiful and talented woman. Perhaps you should give yourself another chance?"

"You seem to know just how to affect me." Juhani said smiling sadly through her tears. "What should I do?"

"See the council for one; if you fear falling, you should always seek help. The path of the Jedi is not an easy one and walking it alone is nigh impossible."

"You are right I should be bought to judgment for my crimes."

"It may not be as bad as you think, though I have not known you long I sense you are your harshest critic. Redeem yourself in your own eyes, forgive yourself and allow others to do the same." Pol said helping the Cathar to her feet.

"I thank you, kind one, I will never forget you. I will return the council at once."

"I will come see you once you have met with them." Pol said as she grasped the woman's hand warmly. "Farewell Juhani. May the Force be with you."

As night fell washing the Dantooine sky with stars and shadows Juhani sprinted towards the enclave, boldly facing her future.

Pol switched on her stealth unit and made her way silently towards Canderous. _This time for sure, I have darkness on my side and he can't be expecting me to have resolved this thing so quickly. I'm a get me a boot knife. _She chuckled to herself.

Canderous was crouched his knees up and arms folded atop of them; even seated his imposing figure was statuesque in the moonlight. Pol approached from his left side, channeling a small amount of the Force she could see the shape of the dagger blow the leather of his boot outlined clearly in the inky blackness.

She moved closer, inching forwards soundlessly, watching Canderous for a sign that he had heard her. He sat perfectly still, so still Pol wondered if he was asleep. She snaked out her hand to thieve the knife not believing how close she was to her goal. _I can do this._ She looked up at Canderous as she prepared to lift the dagger and caught the gleam of his smile. His hand was on hers before she could make another move.

"Gotcha." He said.

"You knew I was there." Pol accused. "And I thought I was hot stuff." She pouted and Canderous snickered.

"Yeah, I knew, but it's a fantasy of mine to be disarmed by a beautiful girl." He confessed.

"Beautiful huh?" Pol said.

"Exquisite" Canderous growled undressing Pol with his gaze.

"You flatterer." Pol laughed as she nudged the warrior. "I didn't think you Mandalorians knew words like that."

"We do but they sound better in Mando'a." Switching to his native tongue Canderous said, "Mandalorians can be very romantic."

"Oh really? _Ni Jorhaa'ir Mando'a,_ I speak a little Mando'a…" Pol returned perfectly in the same dialect.

"Yeah I saw that in your service records. You speak it with an accent it is…Exotic"

"Exotic, ha! I like that." Pol said, continuing the conversation in his language.

Canderous put his arm about Pol's shoulder. "We should head back." He spoke softly into her ear, breathing in the fragrance of her hair.

"Yeah, you know, I don't think anyone else in the crew speaks Mando'a…" Pol wrapped her arm about his waist twisting her fingers into a belt loop and they began the long walk back to the enclave totally rapt in each others company.

**You Can't Do That With A Droid.**

In full dark they approached the enclave, releasing each other and reverting to galactic basic. "There's some one near by." Pol pointed to a form in the darkness.

"Hmm I see her." Canderous said he was spoiling for a fight, unsated by his clash with Sherruk and having been denied a chance to smite the fallen Jedi.

"She's really upset about something too. I'll go talk to her, you hang back." Pol put her hand on Canderous's sword arm willfully.

"This is a common recurring theme…" He chided.

"Well you did try to take over the galaxy." Pol shrewdly pointed out.

"That would explain why no one is ever pleased to see me." Canderous growled grumpily. He was joking but there was weariness to his tone. For years after the war he had laughed at the fear and anger his presence incited. Now he was tired, of the misunderstanding that fueled it. _They fear us for the wrong reasons; they know nothing of the true Mandalorian way._ He thought with contempt. His consolation was that Pol understood. She could have been a great Mandalorian. Canderous switched on his stealth unit and moved closer to wait within audible range.

Pol approached the woman who was standing by a land speeder. "Excuse me ma'am, are you ok?"

"Oh please Jedi, you must help me, my companion has gone missing!" Elise told her tale, leaving little room for Pol to question her. After a brief conversation Pol was able to establish that Elise's missing companion was a droid.

"So this droid has sentimental value?" She asked in disbelief. The woman sounded dubiously smitten with the robot.

"More than that, he is my personal assistance droid, he is indispensable. The legacy of my late husband!" The woman wailed miserably.

"I see…And what did you use this droid for exactly? No don't answer that. Tell you what, I am probably going to be out on the plains again tomorrow, I will have a scout about. If I see your droid I will return it to you." Pol left the distraught woman and signaled discreetly to Canderous. He caught up with her near the enclave courtyard.

"Did I hear that correctly?" He asked eyes glittering mirthfully in the dark.

"Yes." Pol said sternly. Just because the woman's dealings with her droid were 'unusual' didn't mean she wasn't worthy of Pol's sympathy.

Canderous laughed aloud, "Oh no, a droid? That's just not right! Sentimental reasons? More like semi-mental."

Pol found the harder she tried not to laugh the more she wanted to. _That's not the Jedi way_. She told herself. _Put yourself in her shoes._ This idea inspired a short daydream that centered on Pol being romantically inclined towards her T3 unit. This was enough to send her over the edge and she giggled hysterically._I'm not going to be a good Jedi_, she worried. _I couldn't be a bad one but I definitely couldn't be a good one. Petty theft, Kissing Mandalorians and laughing at the misfortune of others…Arg I'm far too human for this line of work._

"Bastila wanted to see me I should go find her." Pol said when they arrived at the Hawk's landing pad.

"No war stories tonight?" Canderous asked.

"No, I'm afraid not."

Canderous said what they were both thinking in Mando'a with a sly grin. "It's probably just as well."


	8. Chapter 8

**Bonds**

"Padawan Bastila?" Pol extrapolated as she entered the dormitory.

"Ah Pol there you are, I was about to give up on you for the night." Bastila's reprimand was mild and she was…Smiling.

"I met a woman on my way back, she asked me for help finding her droid." Pol explained half of the truth, omitting key elements. Observing Bastila's good humor she wondered just how far their bond extended.

"Juhani arrived back an hour ago. Well done Pol, It seems you have completed your task for the council with extraordinary competence." Bastila stated warmly.

"Thank you Padawan Bastila," Pol sincerely thanked Bastila, for not just her openness but for the unbiased tone in which it was delivered. _Wow she is in a good mood_.

"You have the gratitude of the Order Pol, our numbers are declining and that a student as promising as Juhani can be saved from the darkside means more than you could know. Your presence is requested in the council chambers at first light. If you have nothing else to report you may go." Bastila concluded benevolently.

"Then I should get some rest." Pol agreed and headed for her bed. Bastila watched her sleep time preparations with a queer look,_no bed time stories_ She wondered. _Perhaps the girl is coming around._ Bastila quit the Hawk and made her way to her rooms within the enclave.

**The Task**

The council had accepted Pol as a Jedi, but there was contention amongst them as to how they should commemorate the achievement. The council had deliberated long and hard as to whether Pol should be welcomed to the Jedi Order with the traditional graduation ceremony or a simple and discreet promotion. Their concern was that the ceremony would trigger her memories of her first graduation.

In the end Pol was accepted into the Order without ceremony. The same day she and Bastila were given their first assignment. They were to track down the mission Jedi Master, Nemo who had gone to the ruins and not returned. They were also to investigate the ruins they had seen in their vision. After their briefing Master Vrook asked Pol for a moment of her time.

"I would like to congratulate you young Padawan, but I would also like to warn you. There are many dangers that lie ahead of you and without the support of the Order you risk plenty. As the order supports you; you must support it, by showing your commitment to our traditions and conventions."

"Master Vrook is there something you with to call me up on?" Pol asked, she hated beating about the bush and Vrook had a predilection for lengthy sermons. He had critiqued her more than the other Masters had, and she had both loved and hated him for it by turns.

"You continue to sleep on the Ebon Hawk, when there are suitable quarters for you in the enclave. It does not present as a sign of loyalty to the Order; rather you appear to have one foot out of the door already." He scowled down at her posture. She was standing with one foot facing him and the other was pointed eagerly towards the exit. Pol self-consciously adjusted her stance.

Respectfully she said, "I will make use of the enclave's facilities, if that is your wish Master Vrook."

"Nowama will give you your room number and Key. You may go Padawan." He dismissed her and Pol darted off to see the administrator.

……………………

"Hello Bastila." Pol greeted.

"What did Master Vrook have to say?"

"He wants me to move into the academy." Pol said.

"I see, and?"

"Well I have to go get my stuff. And then we should start out?"

"Of course I will meet you in courtyard."

"Under my tree?" Pol asked.

Bastila's eyes widened at the reference. Pol sat below the tree regularly, but she wasn't the only neophyte Padawan who had favored that resting place during their scholarship. "Yes. That will be fine Pol." Bastila answered succinctly.

**Ebon Hawke**

"You're buying her gifts now?" Carth stood in front of the navicomputer puzzled by the coordinates left by its previous owner, and by the behavior of the Mandalorian.

"It's not a gift it's a sound dampening stealth unit." Canderous said. Zaalbar had caught Canderous leaving the starboard bunkroom, not a regular occurrence, since he had deposited a sleeping Pol there on their first night so he had mentioned it to Carth.

"You bought it for her with credits." _As opposed to ripping it off some corpse_, Carth reasoned.

"Yeah so what?" Canderous's stance and rhetoric dared Carth to speak.

"Well that's a gift." Carth needled; reveling in the Mandalorian's discomfort.

"I don't have time for your petty delineations Republic, that girl is louder than an angry drunken boma. I don't like the idea of her giving me away when we're behind enemy lines." The Mandalorian argued his position simulating detachment to a tee.

Carth roared with laughter. "Canderous, she's right behind you."

"Angry drunken boma am I?" Pol tapped a foot peevishly.

"Damn straight you are." He returned with a smile. "Even with all your Jedi training you're going to need help."

Pol sighed, "If you weren't right I would take you to task for that. But thank you." Pol whispered '_follow'_ in Mando'a and quit the cockpit for the bunkroom, with Canderous in tow.

"Where?" he asked as they crossed the common room. _Bunkroom, ori'jate, this looks promising_.

"I need a brute to help carry my things." Pol opened her foot locker and took out her few possessions. She grabbed the gift from her bed with a smile. "You know I'm a get you back for this Chief."

"You're moving out? And I am supposed to help? Like I want that to happen?" _Not promising_.

"I would rather think of it as getting my own place. And this is a convenient cover for you to learn my new address."

"Address bah loud as you are I could find you anywhere." He drawled in Mandalorian.

"Sure you could." She said condescendingly. "But it won't be so easy with my new stealth unit."

"Smart ass."

"You love it when I tease you," Pol said with a smile.

He looked at her for a moment, watching as she packed her belongings into a single box. Unable to find or stomach the words in basic he said, "Bah, you're ok," and leant against the bunks to wait while she completed her task.

They headed out to the housing quarter with two small arm loads of gear, speaking in broken Mando'a as they went. "They're sending me on my first mission with Bastila. We are going to the ruins."

"_Solus_ - Alone?"

"'_Lek ti Jetii Bastila bal dust bunnies_ - yeah with Bastila and the dust bunnies," Pol enthused.

"Why are they sending you? What do you know about dust?" Canderous interrogated gruffly.

"Hmm. Lets see. Dust is very low in fat, so you can eat as much dust as you like."

"Is that all you know Champ?"

"Yeah pretty much."

"Then it is clear to me that you don't have adequate dust training."

"Pfft dust training? You _di'kut_ Canderous!"

"You think I am kidding? You're going to die out there soldier. I think you should take me with you." He joked dryly.

"Ha-ha you're just bored! You know I can handle myself Canderous." Pol saluted Him, with her usual smack to the shoulder.

"Ouch. Jokes aside, they mentioned that you had been there before. I would like to take a look around…"

Pol fumbled with the security pad, and punched in her key. "Did you get that?' She asked over her shoulder as they entered the small cell. "Wow great view. I can see the back wall of the library from here. I even get my own refresher!"

"Yeah I got it" _Three five eight nine_. "Nice room. Here's your things, so when do we leave?" He fired the words in quick succession and dropping the box to the table looked at her sternly.

"Canderous, you know Bastila would hate that."

"For a peace loving Jedi she does a lot of hating. I owe it to her to come; she would be disappointed if I didn't offend her sensibilities at least once a day."

"Yeah it shows you care. Wait…Should I be jealous of her?" Pol's eyes widened.

"Ugh don't even joke about that Pol." Canderous laughed.

"I can't convince you _not _to come can I?" Pol tried to barter her way to a tolerable outcome. The idea of being trapped in a tomb with Bastila and Canderous's enmity did not appeal.

"Fine but I don't like this. What if I just happen to be looking for 'what's-her-names' love droid in the area, just in case?"

"That would be acceptable."

"Any chance of a kiss?" Canderous asked looking around, there didn't appear to be any one in sight.

"_Nayc_ - No." Pol refused and pointed to her right. The very instant she pointed an apprentice exited the room beside them.

"Damn." _Shabla di'kut_,_ Stupid kid._

"I'll see you round." Pol locked the door behind them both and waved good bye to Canderous innocently as she headed to the tree.

**Finding Nemo (oh come on the writer had to use that gag, it's nearly traditional.)**

"That was quick." Bastila observed when Pol arrived at the tree.

"I don't fool around."

"I should hope not!" Bastila berated Pol under her breath.

"What are you implying?" Pol asked innocently. As they took off on foot.

"I've seen the way he looks at you Pol."

"And have you seen the way I look at him?" _Cheeky bugger, he is following us in plain sight. Su'cuy Canderous! _Pol waved when Bastila wasn't looking.

"Yes _unfortunately_, and I think that's worse." Bastila moaned with distaste.

"Why?" Pol asked blankly.

"Are you teasing me Pol?"

"Nope I really wanna know why. Can we stop in here? There is something I have to get." She asked pointing to the supply store. _And a Mandalorian I have to shake if I am going to get any peace for poor Bastila_.

"Because it leads to the darkside!" _Will this girl never learn_? Bastila wondered as they stepped into the climate controlled shop.

"So does shuffling about in crusty old cobwebbed ruins, like Revan and Malak did and here we are off to do that very same thing!" Pol opined cheerfully. Pol picked out a gift for Canderous, handed over her credits and hid the item in her robes.

"Those look nice." Bastila said losing track for a moment. "You shouldn't joke about this Pol. There is much you do not know. Are you done here?"

"Yes thanks." Pol said to Bastila. She thanked the merchant pocketed her change and they left the store. "If there is so much I don't know then tell me Bastila, you can't use your 'this is a Jedi matter' line on me any more."

"That is true. You know from our vision that Revan and Malak came here, before their fall."

"Looking for a Star Map. Actually, I only know Malak came here. I didn't actually see Revan. I've never seen Revan." She couldn't see Canderous any more either, which meant her ruse had either worked or he was now stalking them proper.

"But you heard her. She was there in the vision." Bastila pushed her point as they left the grounds. They walked on for a while, sharing a companionable silence. "We should look for Master Nemo near the ruins directly first, unfortunately I have the distinct impression he is still there."

"Sith lord or corpse? Any takers?" Pol trilled like an auctioneer/bookie, she heard a familiar chuckle behind them. _He's stalking us. Rule number one; don't make your company giggle. I hear you Mandalorian._

"POL VALOR!"

"What?" Pol asked innocently.

"If you don't know then there is no help for you." Bastila chastised.

"Hey I didn't know him, Nemo I mean. There is still a chance Master Nemo could be fine. But if he is not I don't see a down side. He is either as one with the Force or a brand new Sith. Darkside-ism is reversible especially if you catch someone dabbling early on; I mean look at Juhani she's doing great!"

"Pol, that's still a wicked thing to say." Bastila scolded Pol halfheartedly the ruins were in sight now. A low sunken mound covered in grass and marked by a series of monolithic effigies. The air radiated a vindictive harmony.

"I told you I wouldn't be a good Jedi. Ugh this place sets my teeth on edge." Pol said.

"You're not a bad Jedi Pol, but if you were to start liking places like this I would be really worried." Bastila touched the tomb door and recoiled. "This place, very bad things were done here."

"And recently." Pol agreed. "But not by humans."

"How can you tell?"

"Just a feeling I get. Do you think its Master Nemo?"

"I believe so Pol. We should go in."

"You first." Pol opted.

"Why me?" Bastila asked suspiciously.

"Ok we will go in together, back to back ready to draw." Pol and Bastila entered the cavernous vault. The air was rank with decay. _Oh Nemo, you're definitely one with the Force. Pity you're not one with odor free decomposition_ thought Pol.

"Oh dear, that's bad." Bastila covered her mouth with her sleeve and peered through the eye watering vapor of human decay.

"I have a lot of experience with the dead and a strong stomach; I could handle this if you like."

"Be my guest, I'll contact Master Vandar." Bastila sent the news back to the enclave while Pol arranged the corpse respectfully.

She crossed his arms over his chest, closed his eyes and smoothed over what was left of his silvery hair. She emptied his pockets into an envelope took the lightsaber from his waist and stored them for Master Dorak to record. "Bastila?" Pol called out.

"Yes?"

"Nemo isn't very big and we are not far from the enclave, should we return him and then come back?"

"I suppose we should. It would be the right thing to do." Bastila tried not to heave as they lifted the little man up. They carried him out of the ruins and to the enclave.

"Bastila, slow down, we are bearing the body of a Jedi Master, a respectful pace would be proper." Pol tried to breath through her ears. It didn't work so she breathed as politely as she could into the shoulder of her robes as they carried him.

"You must be glad you don't have to fight Mission for the fresher." Bastila said when they had completed the delivery. Pol and Bastila were given leave for the rest of the day, which was just as well because by the time the autopsy on Nemo's remains was complete it was twilight.

"That's definitely something to look forward to." Pol admitted, with a shake. _'Used to' is not the same as 'fond of' I will never be fond of that smell. I have to bathe! _"I will meet you on the Hawk for breakfast first thing, then back to the ruins."

"Let us hope they air out a bit over night." Bastila asked, "Do I still look green to you?"

"Probably no more than I do, I will see you tomorrow, sleep well Padawan Bastila." Pol headed to her new room - got lost - and had to start out again form the courtyard finding the library to get her bearings. _Jedi housing is like a warren._ She punched in the key when she arrived finally and dumped her robes into the laundry basket. _I don't care who is looking I need this OUT of my rooms_. Pol walked nude to her door, opened it and carefully popped the basket of putrid laundry outside her door.

"Blight that's awful!" Pol streaked into the shower and started scrubbing. She treated the whole affair as a sort of ceremony. Starting with her hair and working down to her toes deliberately. An hour later she had rinsed the memory from her skin but it seemed reluctant to leave her olfactory senses without help. _I need caffa. Or citrus_. Pol toweled off and slipped into her pajamas.

She scanned the room, one corner had a jug and a jar of caffa beans_Jackpot_. The other corner had her bed. Her bed wasn't right. It sank a little in places. Mandalorian shaped places.

"Get off my bed!" Pol scolded. Canderous shimmered into view looking pleased with himself.

"How was your day?" He asked casually.

"Horrible. Make me some caffa?"

"Get you own I am the guest here."

"I got you a present. Oh no! It's still in the laundry." Pol took a deep breath opened the door filtered through her robes for the gift and closed the door again. She took it to the refresher to clean up. Satisfied that her hands were sweet smelling again and the gift was in a similar state she threw it at Canderous.

"What's this?" He asked catching it.

Pol grinned like a lunatic. "A stress ball when you get all angry you can squish it."

The ball was pink. _Ah crap now I own something pink_. Canderous laughed. "You're a cruel woman." He said ruefully.

"I know. So when did you arrive…Exactly?"

"I crept in when I heard the 'fresher going."

"No one saw you did they?' Pol cringed.

"No. If you are going back to the ruins tomorrow there is something you should know."

"What's that?" Pol asked as she made caffa the old fashioned way.

"I couldn't get far in past the first old clunker, but I picked up a lot of droid activity in the area. I have a nasty feeling about this one; I don't like the idea of you going alone."

"Bastila will be there." Canderous leaned over her shoulder studying her work.

"Yeah but she's on their side. Pol you're crushing the beans all wrong,"

"Who's side are you on? And how do you crush beans wrong?"

"Your side. Let me take over, you are just making a mess." Canderous wrapped his arm about Pol protectively kissed the side of her head and finished making the caffa.

"So do I get a story tonight?" She asked as Canderous handed her a cup, "Aren't you having any?"

"No and No. Carth and Mission will be wondering where I am, if I stay too late they might come looking."

"You're right." She said breathing in her caffa. The aroma restored her humanity.

"I just wanted to…" Pol put down her caffa and embraced him. Running her hands across his broad shoulders, she rested her head to his chest. The shock of her advances caused Canderous to fall to silence Pol finished his sentence.

"Prove you could sneak in under my guard. I got you figured out."

"Yeah. Probably," he said huskily. Pol kissed him. "Definitely," He amended kissing her back, savoring the girlish feel of her lips against his, overwhelmed by her sweet flavor, and the texture of her yielding skin.

"_Ca_ - Night." She said pushing him away gently.

"Sweet dreams." He said slipping stealthily out the door. Canderous made his way back to the Hawk incognito. His usual trick of pretending to have been in the washroom was bound to fail eventually. When he got there Carth was using it._ Damn_ Canderous looked for another likely place to have been for the last half hour and found none. Giving up he went to the garage and de-stealthed.

"Hold it right there Mandalorian." Bastila said coolly. She had suspected him near the ruins, and had come especially from her rooms at the enclave to berate him for it.

"Hello Bastila." Canderous snarled.

"What were you doing sleazing about in stealth?"

"I was hunting kinrath."

"Liar, you were spying more like." Bastila shook with resentment and barely restrained anger.

"What? I wasn't spying. Just because you Jedi do it inside her head where no one can see doesn't make it right." Canderous crushed the stress ball in his hand and looked for a place to drop it out of sight.

"You've been to see her. Don't try to deny it. I was with her when she bought that this afternoon." Bastila indicated the stress ball in his hand.

_Time to make the little Jedi run away_. "You scared Jedi?" Canderous stared down at Bastila forebodingly. "You should be. Because all those lies you rammed into her head are coming unstuck. I met Revan, and masked or not, there are some things a man _never_ forgets." Canderous poisoned his voice with sleaziness, frowning darkly at the Jedi.

"You are a fool Mandalorian. You know nothing!" Bastila spat angrily and turned on her heel.

"Your anger betrays you Jedi." _So I am right_. "If you try to drive me away, I'll make sure she knows everything."

"You evil bastard, you could hurt her more than you know with your misinformation." Bastila whispered hoarsely.

"No more than you hurt her with your Jedi lies. I _will_be coming with you tomorrow." He called after Bastila's retreating form. _That should shut her up_.


	9. Chapter 9

**When You're Dreaming**

Pol pressed her face into the pillow. _What the hell am I doing with Canderous? There is no emotion, there is peace… But there is emotion all different types of it and no one is more avoidable than the other_. Unable to find a solution to the riddle she resigned herself to sleep.

_Rage, shame, hatred she claimed it all. There was nothing else left to have. His fear she claimed too. He owed her this intimacy. Pol crushed his throat. She felt his windpipe snap with the indiscernible hand of the force. The Republic trooper sank to the floor of the ship. Energy leaped form the man's lifeless body and into her own. The rage subsided and was replaced by detached indifference_. _**My chains are broken**._

_She sought out Bastila. The Jedi approached, yellow double bladed lightsaber at the ready. She swung and Pol drove her back with a gesture. Heavy fire blasted the ship causing it to rock. A voice cried out strained by the ire that inspired it,_ "**_Malak_**!" _Her voice._

_She ignited her lightsaber_. **_Red_**. _The color drew her gaze for a moment and Bastila threw a wall of energy at her, pushing her back. Pol was dragged upright for a few meters her heels scraping noiselessly on the sleek black floor of the bridge. Unimpressed by the novice Jedi's ability Pol drew the energy from the air and delivered it coursing through the younger woman's body. Pol turned her back on the Jedi's limp form in disgust._ **_This is what they send me_**.

_Bastila healed herself rapidly and struck out at her, the ship thrashed under the attack and they were thrown across the floor, Bastila's face so near to her own, righteous eyes blazing, pure and sure. **So sure of her path**_. _The young Jedi leapt to a fighting crouch regaining the floor quicker than Pol could. "You can not win!" Blackness._

Pol woke abruptly, thrusting back the sheets. For a second she panicked. _Where's Bastila? Where the hell am I?_ She remembered and sighed jadedly. _My new room._ She contemplated seeking out Bastila. It was 5am. Her room was on the other side of the compound. _Ahh crap I should just get up_. She dressed herself quickly cladding her form in bulky but clean Jedi robes. She had always hated uniforms and this was the least flattering one she had ever been assigned to. _As soon as I leave Dantooine I have to find a good tailor. _

**Ebon Hawk**

"Canderous is coming with us." Bastila answered.

"He's going? He's not a Jedi," Carth said, between mouthfuls of porridge.

"He offered his assistance, whatever killed Nemo is still in those ruins."

"Then I'll come too." Carth announced.

"Good we could use the back up."_I could use the back up_ thought Bastila.

"Morning comrades," Pol greeted as she walked into the common room.

"How come I never get to go?" Mission complained.

"I have been meaning to talk to you Mission. Is now a good time?" Pol asked.

"Sure." The young Twi'lek said. Pol and Mission left the common room and headed outside. They passed Canderous on the way and Pol noticed he was looking grave. _Uh oh I know that look, that can't be good_. Pol focused her thoughts as Mission sat down in the shade of the ship.

"Mission, if thought there was anything worthy of your skills out there I would take you with me. You have seen so much death and destruction, for your age you have seen too much." Pol spoke quietly, crouching beside the teen.

"Why not do what Carth does and blame it on the holonet." Mission ragged with a dry laugh.

"I'd rather blame the Sith!" Pol laughed bitterly. Recomposing herself she held the Twi'lek's hands in her own. "Mission, I am so sorry for Taris."

"It's not your fault Pol, but thank you. Look I can handle myself."

"I know it's just a shame that you have to. I am going to need you more and more, but right now I think you need time to come to terms with your loss. If you want to talk, I'll be round."

"Thanks, Pol. And don't worry about Tatooine. I understand you have to obey the Jedi council." Mission said.

"I do, up to a point…If I can find a way to get you there I will." Pol said with a crafty smile. Mission hugged Pol firmly and they returned to the common room.

Canderous watched Pol and Mission come back. He hadn't slept well all night his head had thrummed with racing images, memories of the clash between Revan and Mandalore. _What the frack am I supposed to do? Bastila is right, telling her off the cuff could mess her up. But I can't lie to her, she has a right to her history, and to the honor she claimed with her battles. _

**Ruins**

Carth and Canderous followed the two Jedi as they walked the dew laden grass to the Ruins. The Kath hounds had been quelled since Juhani had ceased her channeling in the near by grove and they lazed sun bound uninterested in the travelers. On reaching the entrance the company armed themselves and stepped into the tomb. They spilt up upon entry and Pol found Canderous's prints from the day before. They lead to a solitary heavy door. There were more prints, the recent ones Nemo had left in his flight and Bastila and Pol's from the recovery of his body. The older ones were shallow impressions, filled with a film of dust and detritus. They also lead to the lone door embedded in the far wall.

Pol shivered. Canderous raised an eyebrow, "You ok Champ?" He asked.

"I still don't like this place Chief." She answered Canderous but looked to Bastila for her guidance. Bastila tested the door, the dark energy it thrilled with revolted her she pulled back her hand and looked at Pol who had gone quite green. "Well don't look at me." Pol said holding her hands in surrender.

"Gentlemen?" Bastila motioned to the door. Carth and Canderous holstered their weapons and hauled the door open; it trundled along regretfully, revealing the inner sanctum of the crypt. A droid sat motionless in the center of the room, its design was archaic and alien. Behind it was a door, heavy and ominous looking it was sealed with glyphs that glowed incandescently an icy blue. To its left and right were two more gates much like the first ones they had come through, heavy looking but not impenetrable.

Bastila crossed the threshold examining the prints as she went. Pol hovered in the door way, feeling abnormally claustrophobic. She was backed by Canderous whose hand rested on her shoulder protectively and by Carth who glared at Canderous. _Taking liberties with a Jedi who does he think he is_? Carth grumbled inwardly.

They watched as Bastila traced Nemo's steps around the room, they lead to the easternmost door and away again trailing blood. She inspected the droid. It displayed no sign of activity. "I think Nemo may have disabled it." She said after a brief experiment.

In Mandalorian Canderous said to Pol, "This is as far as I got yesterday." Carth pushed past Canderous deliberately knocking his hand from Pol's shoulder. He looked the droid over for signs of attack. "It doesn't look damaged, Pol you should check it out you're good with droids." Pol stared at the floor.

She took a step into the room landing her foot in a soured and familiar print. As if resurrected by her presence the droid hummed into life and began speaking in an alien tongue. The alien words combined with the sudden light show from the robot triggered something in Pol.

For moment her visions of the ruins flooded back She saw Malak, she understood the droid, Canderous's warning echoed "_They said that you had been to Dantooine and implied that you had fallen to the darkside before. They mentioned using your memories to help defeat the Sith_" Bastila was saying something. _Bastila pushing her_… _Her heels scraping noiselessly on the sleek black floor of the bridge._ _**These prints are my prints. I have walked this path before**._ _Her voice…_

"_I only know Malak came here. I didn't actually see Revan. I've never seen Revan_" "_But you heard her. She was there in the vision_." **My _voice_…**

Bastila called to Pol again but Pol didn't hear her instead she heard, "_Revan! You can not win_!" Pol sought for something to ground herself mentally. **_Smell of the grave, barren earth dust rubbing shoulders with mould and tendrils of webs encasing everything. I am here again. This room, here where I fell_**. Overcome by the insight Pol collapsed.

Bastila ran to Pol's side, Canderous was supporting her, checking her vital signs frantically. Carth activated his comlink to call for help. "No Carth don't" Bastila said interrupting him. "She's fine."

"She's unconscious!" Canderous snapped.

"She will be fine if you just leave her alone!" Bastila placated him with an air of authority... "I know this from our bond. Now I think you both should leave."

Canderous refused point blank, "No fracking way!"

"What did that droid do to her? We should get her outside for some fresh air." Carth said. "I think we all should get away from that droid." He glared distrustfully at the droid who had been incessantly cycling through languages since Pol has approached it.

"You both need to leave NOW." Bastila left no space for argument but only Carth left the room. Canderous remained holding Pol defensively and glowering at Bastila.

"I'm not leaving her with you," he spat savagely.

"Put her down, and walk away Canderous, I will see to her. She will be fine." In a calm Force modulated voice Bastila attempted to persuade Canderous. Even using the Force her words had no effect.

"Nark off and save your mind tricks Bastila. I'm not buying your Jedi crap anymore. You've messed with her enough!"

Bastila released the Force and made her demands angrily. "Canderous you can't help her. I can. Now if you have any care in that black heart of yours for Pol you will leave **NOW**!" With great reluctance the Mandalorian released Pol, and gave her to the care of the Jedi.

"Wait outside." She said quietly taking Pol from his grasp.

"I'll be in the foyer." Canderous deliberately left the immediate vicinity, but defiantly stood where he could see them. His belligerence and disregard for Bastila's orders impacted on Carth who felt compelled to leave his post outside of the ruins so he could also be closer to the scene. They watched Bastila resuscitate Pol and strained vainly to hear the conversation that followed. The Jedis' voices were inaudible, cloaked mildly by a convenient bend in the Force that was sustained by their personal bond.

Bastila healed Pol drawing her back to consciousness with the Force. "Pol?" Bastila asked emptily. She manipulated the Force bond between them to silencing the air about them. She apologized to Pol as she did it. Pol sent back a whisper of gratitude for the privacy. When at last she spoke aloud to Bastila she confirmed what Bastila had felt at the time of her collapse.

"I know. I know who I am and why you wanted me with you. Canderous is right, you are using me." Tears spilled from her dark eyes. She was soundless serene, too immersed in regret to sob.

"Pol," Bastila said again wiping the woman's tears away with her fingers. "Do you understand why?" the full weight of Pol's pain beat down on Bastila clouding her judgment.

"Why you need me? Yes. Why I fell to the darkside? Yes. I will face council. I should be tried for my crimes."

The bond between them shut out the outside world to a point where Bastila had trouble locating herself in it. She strove for the location where she ended and Pol began, scrambling for purchase on the gravel of Pol's disjointed memories. "We need you help Pol. If you tell them, they will change their plan and it will be to the detriment of the Order and the Republic. Only you have the knowledge and the heart to save us. Redeem yourself." Bastila pleaded.

"You are saying don't tell them? Do you hear yourself Bastila?" Pol tried to laugh through her tears. "If I hadn't just learned I was the most hated woman in the cosmos I could be proud of you right now."

"Pol, you walk the path of the light, you can make the killing blow against the Sith end what you began. But if you are incarcerated…They will wipe your mind again."

"Yes. You are right I can defeat them, but not as a Jedi. Do you know why I fell?"

"I sense…" Bastila faltered not liking what she felt.

"But you don't know. You have to hear me Bastila. If I try to walk this trail as a Jedi I will surely fall again. Once you have heard me I will leave telling the council of my 'discovery' _or not_ to you."

**On the subject of light and dark - chiaroscuro**

"Bastila I have been where you are it is precipice between falling and flying. I fell because I lived the Jedi credo to the enth. When it was lifted from me I didn't know what to do" Pol swallowed hard, losing her new found faith was a blow.

"I was that brave Jedi, like you I swallowed my hate and I doused the flames of my anger. I scorned my loves and I cut myself of from my family. I sheltered from love so that I seemed more of an anomaly than a human. Some bizarre experiment created from nothing. I surrendered myself to the ways of the Jedi order. Not to the Force."

"My now famous defiance of the council during the Mandalorian wars was not the first transgression I had made but it was by far the boldest. I disregarded the council and lead the Republic to a victory over the Mandalorians."

"That blatant step away from their rule freed me from its constraints. I was too fierce for them. Too independent, despite all that I had done, all the life I had preserved the freedoms defended I knew I would have been shunned if I had returned. And for that I began to hate them."

"I had been given too much freedom too soon and after a lifetime of the Jedi code suppressing my emotions…. All the feelings I had denied under their teachings were still there, but unbound from their conventions they emerged from their enforced dormancy."

"The trouble with emotion is that it never goes away. The brutality of war was the freshest in my mind; perhaps that is why I turned to it first. One by one all of the emotions I had not endured, as they must surely be endured, consumed me. There is no emotion there is peace. That's a lie. You know there is as sure as you're angry at me for saying that."

"Bastila, that anger you feel now won't go away. Deny it and it will wait until your back is turned. First will come the anger and then the hate. The very things Jedi try so righteously swallow eventually consume them. To persevere you must channel your emotions lest you become their instrument as I did. I destroyed everything and every one I loved with it. I guess that's partly why I am crying now."

"If you're mad at me now feel it and be done with it. Experience it, don't let it build don't add it to the stack you already have against me. The dark side is one very bad idea that multiplies like a cancer of the mind. Multiplying until it is the only thought you have in your mind your heart and your spirit."

"I can no longer live by that part of the Jedi code. If you want my help you will have to accept me without it. The decision is yours."

"You will accept me and my methods?" Pol asked.

"We have no choice." Bastila spilled a few tears of her own as she said the words.

"What will you do? Will you tell the others?"

"Canderous has already guessed." Bastila said looking sickly pale.

"Pol the reason you fell, you defied the Jedi code, it you had stayed within it, if you had not left it…" Bastila tried to reason with Pol. After hearing more words from the older woman in one go than she had in all of their acquaintance it was a trial. Pol had always dominated their bond, but unknowingly so. Now the woman was aware and she was throwing her weight around.

"Be wary that sentiment Bastila. A Jedi needs tremendous inner strength not just thin conventions. If I had not acted the Mandalorians would have conquered the galaxy." Pol said drying her tears. She laughed to herself in spite of the drama, imagining Canderous as sovereign of some backwater planet, smoking cigarras surrounded by dancing girls.

"I ask that you help me Pol. I know the bond can keep us strong, this connection was formed for a reason."

"You will accept me and my methods?" Pol asked.

"We have no choice." Bastila spilled a few tears of her own as she said the words.

"What will you do? Will you tell the others?"

"Canderous has already guessed." Bastila said looking sickly pale.

"I know." _He wanted to tell me_.

"Unless it is necessary I will leave the telling to you. As for the council I truly believe you would be more help to us if they didn't know. I need your help Pol; the Republic needs your knowledge. We should finish our task, if you are well."

"Let's hope it becomes clearer when I see this Star Map." Pol shook her robes out and tried to stand, before she was up Carth had leant his support to help her stand.

"Are you ok Pol?" He asked worriedly. "What happened?"

"Inadequate dust training," she said with a false grin. Canderous concealed her subterfuge, he was unsure of what had just passed, but it was clear she had been crying.

"Told ya. You should never undervalue its effect on the sinuses."

"Blah blah oh Canderous you are so wise and so strong." Pol saluted Canderous on the word 'strong'. Carth winced at the clout.

Seeing that Pol was back to her usual self Carth searched Bastila for signs of instability. "So you're both ok then?" He asked.

"Yes Carth, we are fine. Pol, are you ready?" Bastila asked. Pol nodded blithely and began an exchange with the droid in Selkath.

**New Orders**

Pol was noticeably absent; she had gone to ask Juhani to join them on their quest. The council had stated that only three Jedi may go as any more would draw unwelcome attention. Their task was to locate the Star Forge. All they had to go on besides shaky memories in Pol's head, that had to remain secret, were a list of planets that might hold clues. Bastila and Pol's private hope was that Pol would recall more of her life as Revan by retracing her steps.

Zaalbar Mission and Canderous sat along the service counter in the galley while Bastila answered questions. Carth sat dumbly as Bastila told the crew of their destination and what she could of their assignment. She had been under a lot of pressure lately and tell tale signs of it showed in her appearance. The way she wore her robes as if they were an exoskeleton to her resolve. Pol's absence, no matter how benign, was like a wound, each member of the gathering looked for her like a limb that had been lost in a war. There were no smarmy jokes and no fruity smiles.

Carth was still under Bastila's command, as per orders form the Republic. He wasn't sure what Pol's collapse had been all about but it has adjusted his estimation of Canderous. At fist Carth had pegged him as after one thing and he had misconstrued the Mandalorians persistence in courting of Pol after her accession to the Jedi order as disrespectful. The tenacity, with which he perused her though, while not harmless, had seemed less ruthless and single minded once he inadvertently revealed his protective side in the ruins. _He actually cares for her. _

At the end of the briefing, Bastila dismissed them, and went to collect her personal effects form the enclave. Carth took T3 to the navicomputer to load the coordinates for their journey. Zaalbar bemoaned the state of the food synthesizer; he had gotten used to cooked meals on Dantooine and was harboring a private apprehension about their first destination his homeworld…Kashyyyk. He was grateful for the distraction that Canderous's latest orders gave them.

"Hairball, Blue I want you to go to Pol's rooms and pick up her stuff. Room 445, It's behind the library. Get going."

"Uh key?" Mission held out her hand expectantly.

Canderous answered without a moment's hesitation, "Three – five – eight - nine." He shooed them from the area with a wave of his arm. _That should keep them out of trouble for a while._

Zaalbar lead the way, Mission ran to catch him. "So Kashyyyk huh? Do you still have family there?" she asked reaching his side.

He responded (Mission, I'd rather not talk about it.) Zaalbar slowed his strides for Mission's benefit. Changing the subject with a Wookiee woof he said, (He knew that key by heart.)

"Yeah, weird huh? Pol's only been there like two days. He defiantly digs her but I doubt it's a two way street. I mean Pol would have better taste; Canderous is a bit…Old. I wonder if she even knows he knows it, if you know what I mean."

(Pol is older than you think Mission.)

"How old is she?"

(Thirty seven in human years.)

"What? No way, she's older than Bastila and Carth? I still don't think she would go for C-note no matter _how _much he'd like her to."

(He is devoted to her. She could do worse for a mate than Canderous. They are well suited)

Mission wailed covering her ears. "Oh that's just gross Zaalbar!" They dropped the subject and completed their task.


	10. Chapter 10

**Galley**

Pol returned from the enclave in a buoyant mood, all things aside she was still glad to be leaving Dantooine. "Look upgrades for the food synthesizer!" she said as she lumped the large box on the bench beside the caffa machine, she tapped it pompously for effect.

Zaalbar roared his approval, (About time! I will get to work on that presently.)

"Any Deralian cuisine on the menu?" Carth inquired as he drained a cup of caffa.

"Sadly no."

(Maybe you could cook some for us Pol.) Zaalbar mumbled as he began unpacking the box, claws slicing the packing tape with unnatural ease.

"I am flattered that you asked me Zaalbar." Pol blushed. She had a soft spot for Zaalbar, life debt aside.

"Culturally feeding a wookiee is a privilege." Mission explained the system to the uninitiated. "And it's also a full time job. I could use some help Pol."

Carth and Bastila looked contemplative after learning this. T3 twittered and Canderous looked amused. Mission had been thieving and wheedling food for Big Z for a number of years, such was the closeness of their friendship.

"I doubt Zaalbar would thank me for it if I tried. I am a horrible cook." Pol had managed so far to keep her mind disconnected form her heart; she wanted to keep things light. _I'll do my hurting later_. She promised herself.

Canderous laughed, "Figures, short, noisy and a bad cook."

"You forgot to mention what a grump she is in the mornings." Bastila supplemented with a teasing smile.

Pol bit back cheekily, "Blah blah you are no prize either before your first caffa Princess Pedant!"

"It's the bond dear, you grump I grump." Bastila retorted with a little grin.

"I've never met a woman yet who liked sunup or who didn't hog the refresher. First thing in the morning you're damned near feral the three of you." Carth declared. He fought off slaps from Mission and Bastila with a chuckle. Zaalbar snickered and was also hit by Mission. Pol shrugged humbly in admittance to the accusations.

Canderous offered his wisdom. "Republic you are either very brave or very stupid to generalize woman that way. When the new Jedi arrives we will be outnumbered, let's see how brave you are then." He dared.

"Oh boy didn't think of that!" Carth joked. "I will have to watch myself. Well I better go run some tests on this old girl make sure she's ready for tomorrow's flight."

"Well I guess I will go hog the refresher." Mission skipped out of the room excitedly. She had been slowly regaining her pep and the thought of visiting Kashyyyk had really appealed to her. Bastila took her leave to prepare a bunk for Juhani. Pol and Canderous sat together and watched Zaalbar intently for a lengthy moment.

(You going to help?) He asked rhetorically, when he realized he was being stared at.

"I have something to do." Canderous mumbled. He looked at Pol meaningfully and Pol indicated her comprehension with an anxious smile. She dallied after he left the galley, picking up the fallen packaging and shredded tape. She posted them through the garbage chute and took a seat.

(Everything ok?)

"If you are referring to my fainting spell then yeah I am ok."

(From what Carth said it was more of a collapse.)

"I am ok, how about you? You keen to see home?"

(Not really. I left under duress. I am sorry but I don't want to talk about this.)

"I respect that, you don't have to. If you change your mind I will be here Zaalbar."

(I thank you Pol.)

Pol found her feet and left the galley. She paused and bit a catching fingernail_Now what can I do… delay, avoid_ Pol headed away from the garage decisively spinning towards the cargo hold. Bastila was meditating when she arrived and the Force swelled about her. Pol wondered for a second if Bastila had called her with it. Bastila eased out of her pose.

"You didn't say anything." Pol said quietly slumping to the deck beside Bastila.

"The Republic stands a better chance with you seeking the answers to this riddle than it does with you locked in a cell. Besides all hell would break loose if they incarcerated you. Between the Wookiee and the Mandalorian…" She shook her head with a rueful grin.

"Carth will want to kill me."

"If he finds out he may wish you harm, but he will have to go through me to do it. I know your heart Pol as you know mine." Bastila delivered her words kindly but with assurance.

"Well he will probably be narked at you too, for lying so you watch my back and I will watch yours." Pol said with a wink.

"I didn't lie, I merely omitted." Bastila looked guilty as hell for all her claim. Pol hugged her. "What in space was that for?" She asked Pol once she was released.

"For your support, I appreciate it. While you are being so supportive, I need to talk to Canderous, any advice?"

Bastila was taken aback but flattered by Pol's request. "Just make sure he doesn't tell anyone. I know your feelings about the code are…Different. But be careful Pol." Pol nodded deliriously and wobbled off on nervous legs to see Canderous.

**I'm with the Sith Lord**.

When Pol arrived Canderous was sitting on his bed, a rare sight. He made space for her but she pretended not to notice and took his place by the workbench. Standing in his space, she realized it was the perfect location to watch both exits from the hanger, a testament to Mandalorian vigilance.

He frowned. _She took her time._ "Did you get lost or do I need a bath?" He asked in his native dialect.

"No just a shave." Pol recommended absently. She addressed her feelings in private. _Sadness, guilt, confusion and despair just wait 'til later I promise I will deal with you then. Nerves, you're up, come with me._

"Come here." He said. _What did they do to you?_Canderous grieved secretly for Pol's loss, because part of him knew that she wouldn't.

"You know." Pol accused.

"And by the look on your face and your reluctance to make eye contact with anyone I would say you know too. Come here." _Maybe I should have told her._

"You want me to?"

"Pol don't make me come over there," Canderous gave a weary caution to his wayward woman who gave in and sat beside him. "I wanted to tell you what I suspected. I don't know why I didn't."

"Bastila said she asked you not to. How did you know?"

"I witnessed Mandalore's defeat by Revan. She was masked and robed; there was not much to see. But she had a presence a regal bearing that stuck in my mind. Mandalorian warriors notice these things. You still walk the same; fearless. Watching her – you fight. I had never seen anything like that before, that style…not from any soldier or Jedi. It stayed with me for many years. At the last she held his head in her arms tenderly and whispered something, I and my brethren wondered what it was, now having met you I think I know."

"I remember. I asked him to reconsider I pleaded with him to surrender."

"Was it out of some pacifistic Jedi ideal?" He asked.

"Actually no I was never a very good Jedi. I asked him because I feared he would be held aloft as a martyr to the Mandalorian cause and I wanted to end the war once and for all." Pol looked at Canderous guiltily. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he smiled his approval.

"You're craftier than I thought. Knew there was a reason I liked you." He took her hand in his cautiously. "When I saw you fight for the first time I had my suspicions. Your style was almost identical. But I discounted the idea; hell for all anyone knew Revan was dead, by young Bastila's hand no doubt. I didn't dare hope. Now there's something that rocked me. Not that she isn't a good fighter, she just inst that _great._ Even with Malak's betrayal I couldn't fathom her beating Revan. Other things, Carth's conspiracy theories, your crazy broken brain, seeing you with a lightsaber…"

"The council session you 'overheard'" Pol dug her fingernail into Canderous's hand.

"Ha. Yeah well. I knew something was up, wishful thinking."

"I can't be that ever again. I have no intention of reclaiming that title, or that name." Pol said wholeheartedly.

"That wasn't what I was hoping for."

"Really?" Pol caught his gaze, and found the hint of a lie.

Realizing he was caught Canderous admitted the truth. "Maybe just a little," he laughed quietly. Pol saluted him. "Ouch. You have a right to your history though, the honor you have earned through your victories. I am angry for what they have done to you."

"They'll do worse if they find out I know."

"Which is why I haven't acted. So they captured you and wiped your memory?"

"Yes, and replaced it with the weak suggestion that I was a scout. Just as well you didn't act on it I intend to defeat Malak, can't do that caged. I know what the Star Forge is I just have to find it, again. We could get lucky though, I might remember."

"So what is it?"

"Gigantic weapons plant. A war engine, capable of creating entire fleets of warships and legions of battle droids in under a year" His eyes lit up. Pol frowned and released his hand. "You have a one track mind Ordo."

"_Ni Mando'ad_ - I'm a Mandalorian, so two tracks." He corrected grabbing her hand back sneakily. "Well whatever your decision, and I know how _you women love to change your minds _I will be here."

"What?" Pol was shocked.

"Don't blame me I learned all about women from Captain Complains-a-lot today. Shower hogging and so on."

"Canderous." Pol cautioned.

"Yeah?"

"When did you start taking advice from Carth?"

Canderous laughed.

"You won't tell the others?" Pol asked anxiously.

"No but I wish I could. Just to see the looks on their faces. You are incredible Pol but they don't even know the half of it." Canderous grinned,_ beautiful._

"I am not proud of it." Pol touched Canderous's chin and ran her thumb along his lower lip as though trying to steal his smile.

"Not all of it, but it is what made you who you are now. You will come to terms with it in your own way and in the meanwhile I will admire that aspect of you privately." The grin returned. Pol let go of his face and stared at her feet sorrowfully.

"Sometimes I just don't get you. I loath what I did, as a Sith." Pol accepted their cultural difference, up to a point, and Canderous was usually prepared to meet her half way but this hurt. "I thought you would understand that."

"I know, its cuz you're a do-gooder. But damn, woman if Mandalore had been able to shake the galaxy the way you did he would have cherished it. You aren't a Mandalorian," he sighed, "shame that. But I am and by my nature find it hard not to be impressed by a woman capable of such a feat."_I am trying to tell you that I think you are amazing_.

Pol rolled her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. "You mean bastard." She said feebly closing her teary eyes. "Now I don't know how to feel about this."

"Mean hmm? That's fair. But you are the meanest woman I have ever met." He intoned lazily.

"Yeah scourge of the galaxy, that's me." Pol let the sadness creep in, she nestled it gently along side her guilt and shame.

"I wasn't referring to that" _Hmm time to change the game before Pol gets sad._

"Oh no what now?"

"This," he touched her face and traced a line down her neck with his fingers. Pol shivered. He brushed her hair aside and whispered in her ear, "You coming to my bed and tormenting me."

Pol's eyes snapped open. "You ordered me to! And if I was tormenting you, Canderous there would be no doubt." Her negative feelings fled, to a distant part of her soul as he made his move.

"It's an ongoing torment." He explained capturing her mouth with his.

Mission stepped out of the refresher._ Bah stupid Carth, I don't spend long in there. I wish Zaalbar would tell me more about Kashyyyk. Maybe he's told Pol, I should go find her_. She headed for the galley. _No Pol_. She tried the dorm. _No Pol_. So she went to the next most possible place, the garage.

Pol and Canderous were locked in a passionate embrace when Mission stumbled in. "Hey Pol," her brilliant blue eyes bugged at the sight she paused gaping. "….Oh my various gods! Get a room!" Deeply offended by the overt display of affection Mission whirled about and left the garage with Canderous yelling after her.

"For facks sake this **IS **my room **KNOCK** next time! _Shabla usenye!_ " He cursed.

"_Udesii_ – calm down. Not so loud." Pol giggled. "I better go see what she wanted."

"Now!" Canderous held his hands firmly about her waist. _Nayc - no don't go_!

"'_Lek Canderous _- Yeah now." Pol wriggled free, apologizing with a kiss.

"She means a lot to you." He grumbled, though not unsympathetically.

"And so do you. But you're less needy." Pol murmured.

"If that's what you think than you need to stop taking advice from celibate Jedi."

"Oh funny. Keep that up and I won't come back later." Pol quipped.

Canderous felt all the spit in his mouth dry suddenly. "You are going to come back?"

"Maybe," Pol remarked flippantly as she left the room.

_I have to get a door. With a lock._ Canderous scanned the garage looking at the two exits. _Make that two doors_.

**Outside**

Pol located Mission with a trace of the Force and followed her outside. _Eeeep time to make one of my famous jokes to make everything better again_. "Mission," Pol cringed as she called the girl. "I'm so sorry, like I said you've seen way too much for some one so young and now boy, the sight of geriatrics pashing that can't have been good."

Mission doubled over in a fit of giggles. "You said it Pol. What is going on? I mean Canderous! I knew you liked him, but I didn't know you **liked him** liked him."

"Yeah, I have this thing for grumpy old bastards."

"Well he's got that down pat." Mission pulled a face.

"Sorry he yelled." _And swore at you_, Pol sat beside Mission, her face glowing gently in the moonlight.

"It's ok it's just a stupid man thing. They all get nasty when it comes to booze and women. Zaalbar kinda hinted to me that maybe there was something going on. I knew Canderous liked you though."

"Yeah how?" Pol's heart sang happy la la's _He likes me he likes me_.

"Duh he watches you all the time, not in the 'looking up your robes' kinda way but the 'interested' way. He stands taller as soon as you enter a room, makes up lame excuses to be near you and he's even meaner when you aren't there."

"Ah. You didn't notice me doing the same thing…"

"Women are always more discreet." Mission said facetiously with a smile and a wink. "So is this why Bastila is on your case?"

"Yeah kinda, but that's not why I came out here, though a chat with my favorite streetwise mastermind is always an education. What was it you wanted to speak with me about?"

"Were leaving for Kashyyyk tomorrow and Zaalbar never talks about home, I know he left when Czerka started slaving, but I don't know much else. He won't talk."

"Ah, that's a weird guy thing again. I asked too and he wouldn't talk to me either."

"Oh. Well that was kinda all I wanted to know. I'm glad were leaving Dantooine this place is so dull."

"You know, where were going after Kashyyyk?"

"No, where?" Mission asked.

"We are going to Tatooine another big boring place; but hopefully one with a big brother." Pol caught Mission as the young girl threw herself into the Jedi's arms.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou Pol!"

"Hey I can't take credit, I don't deserve it, we just got lucky. There is supposed to be a Star Map there, but the council insisted on searching Kashyyyk first."

"Doesn't matter to me; you're the best Pol." Mission hugged her again.

"We should go in I'm getting eaten alive by bugs and I am hungrier than they are."

**After Dinner**

The decision to go to Kashyyyk first had been based on the vision Bastila and Pol shared of a Star Map on the forest floor. It seemed the quickest way around the task. Pol meditated after dinner pouring through her memories like old albums of yellowing pictographs. The pages of her memories stuck together in places blending the war stories Canderous had told her with her own genuine memories. All traces of her fictitious scouting life were gone, but aspects of Bastila loomed from time to time. _She spared me out of interest, that's twice now. I'm almost her pet. I have to find out how much this bond conveys. _

Bastila and Pol sat in the cargo hold meditating. They had claimed the space as it was relatively private. Pol opened her eyes and called to Bastila gently. Bastila opened hers almost instantly. "I was just wondering what we share with this bond…other than dreams." Pol said. She was looking shamefaced.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Bastila's cornflower blue eyes sparked with alarm.

"Ha! No not at all." _Ok so she can't tell when we kiss, that's good_.

"Are you sure? I could have sworn you were testing me…Trying to find out if knew you were… Oh I don't know …Making out in the garage with Canderous?" Bastila drew each word out meticulously enjoying every squirmy minutes of Pol's shame. By the end of her statement Pol had died.

"Oh god no." she said, with her face in her hands.

"Because if you were, I didn't actually know until Mission told me. It wasn't passed through the bond thank the Force." Bastila smiled. _I mustn't be so mean she feels badly enough about her past as it is_.

"Bastila! That was so unkind of you to lead me on like that, but funny." Relief washed over Pol cooling her complexion.

"I still wish you wouldn't do things like that, you know I don't approve. I sense you emotional state, and it affects mine." Bastila reclaimed her cool as they diagnosed the nature of their bond.

"I can pick your emotions up too, but not much more than anyone else's. And some people I just can't read at all."

"A lot of Jedis aren't able to read emotional states of sentients through the Force at all, we are lucky to have that ability in any form, it is an advantage."

"Sometimes," Said Pol

"Yes sometimes." Bastila agreed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Cargo Hold**

Pol and Bastila completed their meditations. Pol ended by running through some stretching exercises alone, and tested her skill with the lightsaber against a remote droid. When she had had enough she sought out her crew members finding them with the Force as she and Bastila had discussed earlier. Carth was speaking to Bastila, he was nervous. Bastila was confused. _That's weird_. Mission was up to mischief. _Uh oh I better go see what this is all about_.

Pol found Mission in the galley; the young girl was provoking her Wookiee companion. She had been slicing the food synthesizer. She was daring Zaalbar to drink a mysterious concoction she had coerced the food synth to produce. Zaalbar protested. Pol chuckled at the scene and left Zaalbar to his fate. _He's big enough and ugly enough to work it out_. She found T3 in the engine room. He was running a system check, and gave a dwoo of recognition when she entered. _Well your ok little fella_.

Pol sought out Canderous with the Force, and found him in the usual location. She got the distinct impression of anticipation, from him and it made her nervous as hell. Pol locked herself in the refresher. _Oh boy. I better see what cards I am dealing with_. She scrutinized herself as she undressed and readied the shower. She started with her face. _I wore a mask, to hide the malicious signs of my alignment, and to undo the humanity in me. Hateful girl who hid within_, there were no traces of those demons to be seen anymore.

She was honest looking, but not plain, a strange beauty, her mouth was full and a little too proud, her eyes were impossibly dark. Long lashes, pencil thin eyebrows. If her eyes weren't so wide and child like in her small face she supposed they could be pretty. She took out her hair. It was almost black, voluminous and soft. It shone healthily. _It is a bit big, but it could be worse_. She lifted it off her shoulders and held it up. He ears were small. _Oh look I have ears under all that_. She dropped it down again it framed her face like a cloud of black smoke. It spilled onto her shoulders down the strong line of her long neck.

She stepped under the water and lathered up; white soap on golden brown skin. A gift of Pol's breeding not of the sun. _No tan lines_. She mused. _Oh loads of scars_! Pol tried to form a chronology from the bleaching of the wounds. Pink new scars and vague white lines of the old; some puckered hideously she recalled sewing some of them up herself during the war.

Pol left her game once she was rinsed off. Trying to remember each scar was like forcing toothpaste back into a tube. She dressed in her Jedi sleep wear, lamented what she thought was their unflattering cut and left the cubicle.

Pol walked into the garage like she was arriving at a crossroads. _Attention passengers all those departing from the Jedi code please collect your emotional baggage at the door watch your step._ Canderous let out a low whistle, admiring her shapely legs. His eyes trawled upwards and his heart stopped when he caught the sadness in her eyes. He dropped his work and held her as she cried. "You can't bear this for me." Pol warned.

"I know". He said, _but you don't have to endure it alone_.

**Help**

Carth met Bastila in the common room; she was sipping tea and gazing emptily at the air. "Mind if I join you?" he asked. She nodded her consent and he sat across from her.

"Is everything ok?" He asked. _She never says much to me… I wonder if she is holding anything back._

"Yes Carth. You keep asking me that." She said. _And you're not wearing a shirt_

"Do I?"

"Yes. If I promise to tell you when things aren't ok will you stop asking?" _What in space does he want_?

"Ha, look I was only going to offer my help."

"What with?"

"I don't know what can I do to help?" _This is going no where_

"Fly us to Kashyyyk tomorrow morning."

"Ok." _She's so intense._ "I ah I saw Canderous just now. He was raiding the bunks for bedding." Carth said with a wince. _Ok so this is going some where after all: destination unknown. ETA: Pretty soon._

Bastila grimaced. "Is the garage floor getting too hard for him in his dotage?"

"Damn I wish I had thought of that line! No I suspect he is uh broadening his 'domain'." Carth's voice resonated with apology for the behavior of all men.

"The Force give me strength." Bastila sighed and rubbed her temples. _She did say she was going to follow the code her own way_.

"It's not common practice is it for Jedi to uh, double bunk with …Well anyone is it?" _But especially not Mandalorian mercs that foolish girl_, Carth added privately.

"The code warns Jedi about close emotional attachments."

"I have heard that the Sith code does to." Carth had been reading broadly on Jedi beliefs since their arrival on Dantooine in an effort to comprehend the darkside lightside concept. He had been devastated when his mentor Saul Karath had left the Republic for the Sith. In his leaving Karath had destroyed Carth's home world Telos to prove his new allegiance to Malak.

Pol had wrangled a hard truth out of Carth on Taris, he was out for blood, and Saul Karath's in particular, for the act had killed his wife and possibly that of his only son Dustil. She hadn't shared the information; she was not one to break confidence. But it stayed with her, she feared Carth learning of her identity most of all because of this.

"Yes but for different reasons. They see closeness as fallibility." Bastila swirled the last of her tea about the base of her cup.

"A chink in the old battle armor, it's surprising they hold the same view as the Jedi."

"The Jedi do not see it that way, well not exactly. Emotional attachment is different for Force users."

"That's a valid perspective for some, but it is different for the rest of us. When I went to war I gave it my all. My family was never far from my thoughts. Isn't your bond with Pol a kind of emotional attachment?"

"Certainly not," Bastila looked horrified at the notion.

"So Pol and Canderous?" Carth asked carefully. Bastila's face darkened. _Course reset, destination: downhill. ETA: Any second now._

"I do not approve."

"Well nor do I, but I don't think he means her any harm. And she is a good moral influence on him."

"That can't be denied. But I doubt he is good for her."

"I have known Pol just a little longer than you Bastila. I don't presume to know what this Force bond entails, but I just can't see Pol being lead down the dark side by anybody. She's a rebel, but a good kid."

"Carth she is older than you."

"Yeah I keep forgetting. Ha! She's been calling me 'little brother' since day one. So you're just going to hope she gets bored with him?" _She is so beautiful, her eyes._

_These are dangerous questions, _the Jedi thought anxiously "I'd rather not talk about Pol and the Mandalorian, their 'friendship' is a matter for the council not for you or me. I'm off to bed, goodnight Carth."

"G'night Bastila," _What a trip, I reached downhill in record time in fact I think that was probably a personal best_. Carth groaned inwardly and made his way back to the portside dorm.

**Rude Awakenings**

Juhani arrived at the space port with a small bag slung low over one shoulder. She was met by a beautiful but shabby looking Bastila at the boarding ramp. "Come in Juhani, were leaving as soon as Pol wakes up, I am afraid she is not very disciplined."

"Well her training was cut rather short. You yourself look a little worn Padawan Bastila are you well?" Juhani tilted her head slightly, her eyes a maze of concern and with good reason Bastila looked like the wrung out victim of excessive laundering.

_Why does every one ask me that? Oh I knew it mother was right I do have a face like a pie!_ "I am fine Juhani, thank you for asking. You have been briefed by the council?"

"Yes, I am aware of the nature of this mission, though I found it a shock, learning of well…you know." Juhani looked to her boots as if for guidance.

"She is much changed." Bastila excused.

"She does not know her past perhaps that is for the best. She is as she was before the Mandalorian wars a strong and good Jedi." Juhani had the same knowledge as the council of Pol's condition. This meant that she was still under the impression that the mind wipe had worked. Bastila loathed maintaining the lie but saw no option. "Of course, I feel badly for using her so."

"As do I it is not the most dignified way for a Jedi to be treated. Perhaps they council will see this as sufficient atonement for her actions?" Juhani was hopeful but Bastila shook her head sadly.

"I am not certain what they have in store for her Juhani, once her task is completed, they will be keeping a watchful eye on her."

"A shame when she has always had so much potential." Juhani followed Bastila onto the Ebon Hawk where Bastila introduced her to nine tenths of the crew.

Canderous looked at Pol. She had camped down in the garage with him sleeping chastely by his side. It had been a rough night. _Not the good kind of rough either_. So he had let her sleep. It had been a long night of her tears. He slept fitfully at the best of times but after being woken hourly by Pol's nightmares he felt especially un-rested.

Canderous crouched beside their bed and stroked her hair hoping to wake her gently. Pol frowned in her sleep. With a tentative touch he brushed her cheek with the back of his hand marveling at the silk like quality of her skin. Pol slapped out angrily still mired in sleep, unaware of the cause of her discomfort. _Bad tempered little thing aren't you?_ He thought with a laugh.

His peripheral vision snagged on Bastila standing in the door way, with the new Jedi behind her. With lightening speed Canderous automatically withdrew his hand; stood and carved his face into its familiar scowl.

"Is she still not up?" Bastila carried blame in her voice as she looked at him.

"I was just about to fix that." Canderous growled at Bastila. Turning his attentions to his sleeping friend he said, "Pol, get your ass out of bed." Bastila left respectfully and Juhani followed.

Pol woke suddenly to the sound of his voice, her pajama clad arm snaked out from under the covers. She extended her middle finger in defiance.

Canderous nudged her in the ribs with the toe of his boot. "Drop the attitude. There's a galaxy to save." He ranted.

"It wouldn't need saving if I hadn't gotten out of bed to frack it up in the first place." Pol groaned in Mando'a. She was hip deep in self loathing and pity_I should quit while I am ahead and never ever get out of bed again._

"Oh for frack's sake, get your sorry ass out of bed before I get nasty."

"I deserve it. Do your worst." Pol pulled the covers over her head.

"OUT NOW!" Canderous threw back the covers of their bed and when Pol scowled morbidly up at him he retaliated by tipping up the mattress roughly. She rolled inelegantly across the floor of the garage coming to rest near the swoop bike.

"Mean old bastard." She grumbled staggering to her knees crabbily.

"Yeah you love me. Now let's clean that filthy mood up." He hauled Pol upright and pushed her to the refresher. Shoving her in the door he yelled, "And don't come out 'til you can be useful you moral-less juvenile Jedi cow!"

Juhani gaped. Carth chuckled. Bastila colored. "They have an unusual, friendship." She explained mortified by the odd couple. _How do I explain this fraternization to Juhani_?She worried, but she didn't need to Juhani had formed her own conclusions and demonstrated an unexpected tolerance.

"Pol seems, an_ unusual_ Jedi, perhaps she is what this unconventional assignment will need." Juhani said to her companions.

"Let's hope so Juhani. Ok time to get this girl off the ground." Carth headed to the cockpit, followed by Zaalbar and T3.

**Bound For Kashyyyk**

Juhani met Pol and Bastila in the starboard bunkroom. She had not commented on Pol's nightly absence from the communal sleeping quarters_It is not my place_. Bastila sat atop a footlocker, and Pol lounged on a low bunk. Bastila spoke first. "We do not want to draw undue attention, for the time being we should dress as civilians."

"Here here!" Pol exclaimed wholeheartedly. She was eager to be free of the robes for many reasons, the main one being her deviance from the Jedi code.

Juhani spoke next. "It would be the sensible thing to do, but three women traveling together Jedi or not, will attract attention." _Especially when two of them are exceptionally beautiful_ she observed privately as she examined her gorgeous companions.

"Not with Pol's wookiee and that Mandalorian thug trailing after." Bastila said drearily.

"They should be an adequate deterrent." Juhani admitted.

"Did anyone bring spare clothing?"

"I did not." Juhani frowned; she hadn't expected she would need it.

"Nor did I, what about you Pol?"

"'Gave them up at the enclave. Mission has civvies. I don't know how well they would fit us though." She surveyed he women about her. Juhani was tall and lean, but as slender as she was strong. Bastila was full of breast and hip in that desirable way, but small of stature. _And I am the strange looking something in between. _

Bastila called Mission to their conference. She took a space on the floor in the crowded room. "What can I do for ya?"

"We need some civilian clothing; do you have anything you can spare?" Bastila asked.

"Hmm, Pol and maybe Juhani could get into my shirts ok, but I doubt the rest would be of use to you."

"Ah the problem of pants," Pol laughed. Mission fetched the shirts and Juhani and Pol tried them for size. They weren't too bad, but when Mission's trousers were held against them it was clear that Juhani would be showing a lot of ankle and Pol would be baring her butt.

"What about Carth's trousers?" Bastila suggested.

"I'll tell him you asked after them!" Mission laughed running to the cockpit, her grin blazing mischievously.

Juhani covered her mouth to screen an ill-disciplined smile and Pol laughed outright. Bastila rolled her eyes. While Bastila viewed their reaction as puerile, but in fact it was their life experiences outside of the Order that was the origin of the two older women's amusement.

**Cockpit**

"Hey Carth, Bastila wants your pants." Mission said taking the copilot seat.

"What!" Carth spat caffa all over himself in shock.

Canderous's brows shot up. "Carth I really don't think she will want them pre-moistened" He ragged. "I'll take over here while you play 'lord of the pants' with Bastila."

Mission cackled. "Lord of the pants! That's a good one C-note."

"Shut up Canderous. What is this really about Mission?"

Mission giggled, "It's like I said Carth; she wants your trousers."

Canderous snickered again, _that poor bastard_. "Is it just me Blue or does that just get funnier every time I hear it?" He said.

"No it's funny alright, especially now Captain Complain-o has a lap full of hot caffa!" Mission trilled again.

"If you are done laughing at my expense I guess I'll go see what this is really about." Carth straightened his apparel, brushed the hair from his eyes took a deep breath and made for the bunkroom uneasily. Mission and Canderous's laughter dogged him down the hall.

**Bunkroom **

"You ask him Bastie." Pol teased.

"Why me?" Bastila asked.

"It was your idea." Juhani purred.

Bastila blushed hotly at Carth's arrival. _At least he is wearing a shirt, but what in space has he got on his pants? _"Carth, would you happen to have two pare sets of trousers?"

"I would but as you can see I spilt my caffa and so I will need one of those pairs." Carth remained dignified, a death defying feat when you're an average guy facing three stunning Jedi women. Bastila had to give him credit for it.

"One pair then?" Pol asked, prolonging Bastila's discomfort.

Juhani smiled a little as she spoke. "One pair should do the trick Padawan Bastila."

_Oh this is ridiculous_ Bastila thought. She neatly, but childishly, parceled the pants debacle to Pol with one clean sentence, "Carth, Pol would like to borrow your trousers." To her annoyance Pol wasn't phased.

"Me? Fine I'll wear Carth's hand me downs and Missions shirts until mish and I get to a store. Then we can kit ourselves out properly."

"Wait so you really want my pants?" Carth looked staggered.

The three women exchanged a look and answered in unison. "Yes," _Idiot._

Carth left the room his expression was on of utter 'barrel of a blaster eating' embarrassment. He returned with clean trousers and the spare pair of threads. Pol accepted them and Juhani shooed him out of the room with a laconic 'be gone man thing' gesture.

Pol shrugged the pants on below her robe, discarded the top half of the vestment and bound her torso up in Mission's shirt. She did a twirl for her audience. "What no applause? Oh it's cuz I got **dressed** not **un**dressed; I'll get the hang of stripping one day you just wait!" She joked.

"The shirt is a little stretched across the bust." Bastila observed.

"But it is not indecent. The pants need taking up" Juhani added.

"I don't think Carth is going to like that." Pol pointed out. The pants sat about low about her hips, she was only an inch taller than Bastila so the cuffs dragged, but the good news was she wasn't naked. "I'll just make do till we get to a store."

**Cockpit**

Carth returned with a triumphant smile. "Turns out Bastila didn't want my pants."

"Then why are you smiling?" Canderous asked with a laugh _pfft these backward Republic boys._

"Because Pol wanted them," Carth dug at the Mandalorian's weak spot as payback for his bullying. Canderous was about to serve Carth an acerbic surprise when Mission intervened.

"Whoa C-note easy big fella, they're just looking for civilian clothes to wear in public till they get their own. My pants are too small and yours are too large…"

Canderous relaxed, he looked thoughtful for a split second before asking, "Who's shirt she wearing?" suddenly intrigued.

"Mine." Mission answered.

_Kandosii, excellent!_ "Excuse me _ladies_." Canderous smiled shamelessly and left the cockpit to find Pol; _before she changes back into those god-awful robes._

**History**

The common room of the Ebon Hawk was decked out to Davik's taste. A 15 man purple lounge dominated the room clashing rudely with the tangerine carpets and mimicking the octagonal shaped lighting fixtures. Mission sat at one end of the couch conning Juhani out of credits over a friendly game of Pazaak. They were both from Taris, as Juhani handed over another credit note Mission had a feeling that it was to be the start of a beautiful friendship.

Zaalbar shuffled over to make room for Pol to sit beside him on the couch. He could see by her expression she had more questions.

"You still don't want to talk do you?" Pol asked taking a seat a meter away from him.

(Mission should stay.) He woofled softly, Mission overheard him and her head snapped back.

"Zaalbar, why are you trying to get rid of me?"

(Mission I'm not, you don't understand.)

"Perhaps you should explain it. If you don't want to tell me; then why not tell Mission?" Pol suggested.

Canderous saunter into the common room joining them. He sat a respectable distance opposite from Pol. He lit a cigarra and propped his boots up on the caffa table. From behind a cloud of blue smoke, that made Mission gag, his eyes wandered in Pol's direction frequently. A fact that was not lost on anyone present, no matter how discreet the Mandalorian thought he was being.

Zaalbar growled. (It may not be safe.)

"It is not safe anywhere for any of us let alone Mission." Pol looked to Canderous for support.

Canderous heard Pol's silent plea, and rescued her, "Would it help if I watched Blue for you?" he offered the wookiee. Zaalbar mumbled a reply discontentedly. "What did he say?" Canderous asked with a frown.

"He doubts your ability to watch anything other than my chest while I am dressed this way." Pol translated Zaalbar's comment to Mando'a.

"Pfft. It was _one_ appreciative glance. You know you could cure me of my obsession…"

"Behave yourself." Pol said before reverting their conversation to galactic basic. "Zaalbar, Canderous promises to protect Mish on Kashyyyk."

Zaalbar nodded and groaned his acceptance Canderous's offer. (If your mate promises Pol, then Mission can come.)

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" Mission protested.

"Sorry Mission." Pol apologized. "I am going to need your help finding clothing when we get there. Fancy a bit of shopping?"

"Woo yeah!" She cheered.

"Bastila and I will remain behind until we have appropriate attire." Juhani intoned.


	12. Chapter 12

**Arrival**

Kashyyyk is a green world covered almost entirely by a forest of trees the Wookiees call wroshyr. The wroshyr stand several kilometers high, their diameter is at least half that count. The Wookiees make their homes in the top branches, only the bravest of their warriors venture to the ground below. The ground below, the shadow lands a dark forbidding place and the location of the Star Map.

Carth sat the Hawk down on a landing pad decorated with Czerka hieroglyphs. Just below the upper canopy. Soon after Pol exited the Hawk flanked by Mission Zaalbar and Canderous, they were greeted by an alien.

"Oh look an Ithorian, maybe he will know where we can get some supplies." Pol hurried towards the loping grey alien. To her surprise Janos Wertka, as he introduced himself, was a Czerka representative.

Mission piped up, "What's an Ithorian doing working for the Czerka Jerks?"

"I don't know but he has come to collect a docking fee." Pol cringed. Credits were tight all round, she had even considered sending Mission off to procure some using her special talents, namely Pazaak and pick pocketing.

"Screw that. Tell him to shove it Pol." Canderous glared at Janos who cowered just a little with true Ithorian timidity.

"My friends and I represent a potential client, you don't need out docking fee." Pol waved her hand gracefully as she subdued the Ithorian with the persuasive effects of the Force.

"While you got that mind trick going on ask him for a few credits." Mission recommended.

"And tell him to forget he saw us." Canderous added.

Pol ignored their suggestions and continued as she began. After a moment Janos Wertka spoke in a monotone Ithorian rabble. "A docking fee will not be necessary."

"What did you call this place? Edean?" Pol asked.

"It is also known as G5-623 but the stock holders prefer Edean. The native species call it Kashyyyk."

"You mean the Wookiees" Pol corrected. "So what are Czerka doing on Kashyyyk?"

Zaalbar roared, (Slaving my people!)

"Your thrall seems less than pleased with the situation; do you always let it speak for you? You must be advised that whilst you are here as its owner you are responsible for any damage it might make."

"Zaalbar is not my thrall or my slave or an 'it'. He is my companion, by life debt."

"It is a difficult thing to stage, but much easier than the chains." Janos Wertka bowed his hammer shaped head in understanding.

Zaalbar roared angrily, (Do not demean the life debt!)

Their welcoming party cowered, "Oh my, please control your slave."

"Quit calling him **slave** tach for brains!" Mission snapped raising a fist heroically.

"Ok calm down everybody." Pol said holding the peace tenuously. She turned to her crew and said quietly, "I don't like this any more than you do but if I don't understand I can not act. I would love to rip these bastards off and close them down, but I need information to do that so shush!" Pol smiled pleasantly at the Ithorian and resumed her questioning.

"So Janos, how does this slaving operation work, what is Czerka doing here?"

"I am merely a representative of the corporation; the wookiee leadership is in agreement! Harvesting is made as delicate as possible! I really can't tell you any more." The Ithorian demurred.

"What can you tell me about the leadership then? Why would they tolerate such a thing?" Pol asked as calmly as she could. _I hate bureaucrats. _

"I really can not say I am merely a representative of Czerka…"

Pol signaled to Canderous. "Chief do you remember what I said about being nice to people?"

"Yeah."

"Stuff it."

Canderous dominated the alien with his posture. His hand wrenched to the hilt of his blade he leaned forward pitilessly threatening the alien with his weighty bearing. "Maybe you should start talking or I might decide to get a little…Restless." His eyes lit evilly like grey gleaming demons in the shade of the tree top spaceport.

The Ithorian looked ready to vomit, and Pol wondered if hit species could do that.

"Woo go C-note!" Mission cheered. Zaalbar roared his approval. Canderous gave Pol a wink.

The alien spilled his guts revealing all he knew about the slaving operation including key information about the leaderships 'arrangement' with Czerka. Zaalbar indicated his dismay at the situation but was reluctant to say much else.

"Mish, why do you call Canderous C-note?" Pol inquired as they left the landing.

"Don't tell her." Canderous snapped. Pol saluted him and asked Mission again.

"Ha-ha its cuz he owes me 100 credits. A full C –century- note," She replied glibly.

(I thought the century was indicative of the Mandalorian's advanced years.) Zaalbar groaned.

"What!" Canderous frowned at Zaalbar and looked to the girls for a translation, all he got out of Pol and Mission was a sassy giggle.

Pol shook her head. "I can't believe you were foolish enough to challenge Mission to Pazaak. That is priceless!"

"I was bored." Canderous looked mildly offended and a little shamefaced.

"You were stupid." Pol analyzed.

"She cheats!" Canderous accused pointing to Mission who was laughing hysterically.

"Whatever you say Chief just don't try to win them back ok?" Pol teased.

They wended their way along the tree top boardwalk stopping finally when they reached a merchant. "Ok Mish, you got your bargaining brain on?" Pol asked.

"Always," The Twi'lek answered with an impish smile.

"Well hello! New spacers, always a pleasure," The merchants gaze wandered to Mission's lekku lustily. "How ever may I help you?" He asked with roving eyes. Lead by Canderous Zaalbar and (to a lesser extent-due to her size) Pol employed traditional stand-over tactics and the corrupt merchant became instantly more helpful and significantly better behaved.

Mission gave the order, "You could start by putting your tongue back in your head before one of my friends here cuts it off." Mission said cattily. _Frag off you gross old man _"First of all we need some new clothing, 9 pairs of pants, three in women's sizes 10 tall, three in 8 short and three in 9 short. Also 12 shirts … 3 dresses… sixteen packs of Hinkler's…"

Mission rattled off what sounded like esoteric gibberish to Canderous, so he tuned out until he heard her say, "Undergarments, you might not have all the colors, but give it your best shot." Under the watchful eye of Missions heavies, the merchant filled the order speedily. "I want the datapad back when you are done and don't even think of shredding us on the credits slime ball!" Mission threatened.

When the transaction was complete Zaalbar spoke up. Maybe you should take these back for the others Mission.

"You are still trying to get rid of me! Fine look Zaalbar if that's what you want I **will** go!" Mission stomped back along the boardwalk to the Hawk angrily. Pol tried to call her back. She could almost see the Hawk form where they stood, but Missions emotional state left a lot to be desired and Pol worried for her safety. A memory fell into her head from Revan's past. It cane in a familiar voice. _Never walk away mad, that's when killers pounce._ It floated like a falling leaf, but she couldn't find the tree of context to trace it.

Canderous turned to Zaalbar. "Nice going Zaalbar. We better contact Carth and let him know there is an irrational teenager coming his way." Canderous activated the comlink ignoring Zaalbar and Pol's conversation; he could only understand Pol's half of it anyway.

Carth blinked into view. "Canderous is everything ok?"

"Yeah, Mission had some kind of paroxysm and she's going back to the Hawk, we hope. Keep an eye out for her and let us know if she is not there in five."

"I'll send Juhani to meet her right away." Carth acknowledged.

"You do that." Canderous ended the call without formality, a sign of disrespect he knew Carth would get antsy over. Pol and Zaalbar had finished their discussion by the time Canderous had finished the call. Both were looking anxious. _Lemme guess, the wookiee has finally spilt his big dark secret and I missed it. If its important Pol will fill me in_. "Lets go, Juhani is going to collect Blue. Let's see who we have to maim to get to the green depths of this hell hole."

"Well you're in a fine mood." Pol observed.

"Something feels wrong." Canderous stated as they followed Zaalbar along the walkway.

"That's because it is. It's not my place to say but we might encounter some resistance from the Wookiees, with Zaalbar at our side. So be ready, but try not to kill any one. Oh scratch that order, kill who needs killing just remember the Wookiees' aren't the bad guys here… Even if they don't want to be friends."

"Ok."

**Unwelcome**

The fattest wookiee Pol had ever seen stood guard at the gates to the village of Rwookrrorro. He was accompanied by another large specimen who recognized Zaalbar as they had feared. This set them off at deafening decibels. Pol resisted the urge to cover her ears; Canderous resisted the urge to blow them away. Zaalbar was the only one who didn't resist anything, he accepted his arrest graciously.

"Zaalbar, you don't have to do this." Pol said calmly.

Canderous drew his sword. "Yeah you REALLY don't have to do this."

Pol elbowed him. "Canderous we don't pick fights with sentients that can fold durasteel, especially when they have temporary custody of one of our friends. They've asked us to follow them to the village." Canderous remained frowning after the fuzzy abductors. Pol grabbed his arm gave it a yank. "C'mon Chief let's go."

Before meeting the chieftain Canderous and Pol were disarmed and bound with heavy cord their hands tied behind their backs. Pol shushed Canderous before he could protest. In Mandalorian she placated him. "If the need arises I can release our bonds, meanwhile let's see what this is about and try not to provoke the Wookiees."

Chuundar's coat was darker than Zaalbar's more a charcoal than chocolate but he was almost identical in height, build and in the pattern of furring, to his brother. The similarities ended there though he held opposing views on slavery. Chuundar thought slavery was ok providing it wasn't happening him or his friends. His arrangement with Czerka entailed provision of weaponry to the Wookiees in exchange for easy harvesting of slaves.

Chuundar had also been integral to many of the Wookiees learning galactic basic. He told the community it was to help them better understand the enemy, but those in his inner circle knew it made the population at large more desirable for the slave market.

Chuundar sat surrounded by his cohort; they were backed by Czerka guards. Zaalbar was thrust to his knees in chains before the traitorous wretch of a brother that was now leading his people. Canderous whispered to Pol and was backhanded by a gigantic paw for his discourtesy. He took the massive hit like a Mandalorian; spat blood to the floor squared his shoulders and kept his mouth shut.

Pol had the advantage of being able to follow the dialogue, and she wisely waited to be addressed. When she was asked to speak she gave a warning, "If you have made deals with the slavers Chuundar it will get out."

(Zaalbar is a mad-claw as is our father I am chieftain now they will not listen to outsiders.) Chuundar growled.

And yet you are surrounded by Czerka guards no less brother. Zaalbar snarled and five Czerka guards too aim at his head with their blasters.

(The opinions of mad-claws and humans mean nothing to me or my kind. I will keep Zaalbar with me for the time being. He and I have matters to discuss. But I have a task for you, human.) Chuundar rasped the word 'human' with abject hatred.

"I won't leave him with you Chuundar." Pol said firmly.

(You have no choice. Leave, flee to your space craft and don't come back or do my bidding so that you may gain my favor and free your friend.)

"What do you ask of us Chuundar?" Pol queried.

(Kill the mad-claw in the shadow lands. And return with his head.)

"If the wookiee in the shadow lands defies you Chuundar others will follow. Play along Zaalbar I will see what I can do." Pol stated calmly.

Canderous broke his enforced silence as they were released from their binds. "Let's go kill something and get the wookiee out." They collected their weapons and were bundled out of the main hall hastily and into the center of the village. Pol followed the directions given to her and they made their way out of the commune and to the main walkway.

"I should call Bastila. This isn't good."

"No problem we smoke the crazy wookiee and Zaalbar will be freed."

"That crazy Wookiee is Zaalbar's father by the sounds of things; I don't want to 'smoke' any one I don't have to, _especially_ not Zaalbar's kin."

"Then let me." Canderous touched the firearm he had slung over his shoulder.

"Canderous, I don't want you killing on my behest."

"So what you're going to 'Jedi' him into removing his head peacefully?"

"If I thought that would work I would have asked Chuundar for _his_ head. I just hope the crazy wook in the shadowlands understands basic cuz as much Shyriiwook as I know… I can't speak it for nuts."

"Have you tried?" Canderous laughed a little and held his hand to his face. _Well that hurts_. "Because as charming as you can be; I doubt your feminine wiles will work on this crazy old wookiee. Even I would think twice about removing my head for you."

"Ah but you would think about it! I'm going to take a wait and see approach… In the meanwhile with all those slavers holding Zaalbar we'll need back up."

Pol contacted Bastila. "Bastila we have a slight problem. I need you and Juhani out here as soon as you can. Did Mission make it back ok?"

"Yes she is here… in all her hormonal glory, what's the problem?"

"It's complicated, I don't want _anyone _to worry unnecessarily, but I need Jedi assistance." _By anyone I mean Mission._

"Understood we will be there shortly, Bastila out."

"We're waiting at the basket beyond the village, you should have no trouble getting directions, the Wookiees here understand basic, Pol out." Pol and Canderous made their way to the basket. It was being guarded by a fellow named Gorwooken.

(Do you wish to travel to the shadowlands?)

"Not yet, were waiting for our companions. Can you tell me who has passed this way?"

(I do not deal with outsiders it is only by the Chieftains command that I am aiding you.)

"I didn't like the sound of that last growl; you want me to roll him?"

"No. You are spoiling for a fight aren't you?" Pol teased.

"Yeah." Canderous admitted truthfully. He had seen significantly less action that he would have liked in the last month and the bloodlust was driving him crazy.

"How's your face?"

"Sore, but otherwise ok."

"It looks really bad." Pol said.

"Well I was never going to win best in show." Canderous drawled sarcastically.

"Prettiest Mandalorian? Oh man." Pol lost it and laughed out loud, this earned her a stern look from Gorwooken, who didn't speak Mando'a and had no idea what the humans were on about. Collecting herself she motioned to the tree wall away from the basket. "We should go sit down."

Canderous and Pol took up a seat out of Gorwooken's direct line of sight. "So seriously your face looks a mess. I could heal that up for you." Pol touched his face gingerly; the cheek looked almost as if the bone had been shattered.

"Spare the kolto and save your energy for the beasts below." Canderous shrugged her hand away and smiled with anticipation.

"Oh so you don't want to be pretty is that it?" Pol teased. _I wish he would wise up and let me fix this before it swells and messes with his peripheral vision._

"No I'll leave that to you." _You're not Force healing me Pol so give up. Hmm this play aught to distract her, even if it doesn't pay off. _Canderous took carefully calculated but surreptitious glances at Pol's chest. It didn't take her long to notice.

"Canderous are you staring at my shirt again?"

With shifty eyes Canderous draped his arm about Pol's shoulders. "You know I thought I saw a Dark Jedi back there, yes come to think of it I definitely did."

"Where?" Pol's eyes flew open in alarm her body tensed ready for action.

"He was headed into a cheap motel room near the Czerka offices. Maybe you and I should check it out over a drink or ten while we wait for your friends?" Canderous delivered his suggestion with a sliver tongue.

Pol relaxed when she realized she had been had. "You sly dog!"

_Never give up._ "So what do you say?" Canderous proposed melodically.

"Bastila is near by." Pol announced.

Canderous shook his head. "Try again, say 'yes' and make it _sassy_."

"I am serious Bastila is nearly here." Pol chuckled.

"Ah Crap" _Oh well_.

"But look on the bright side; you'll probably get to tear the head of some poor unfortunate forest mykal within the hour."

"I'll need to after your rejection."

"Bah you'll get over it." Pol scrambled to stand; Canderous threw his hands about her hips and pulled her back for a quick kiss. Pol extracted herself reluctantly, "Ok that's enough Chief unless you want a lecture from Bastila about the perils of the darkside."

"Kiss me like that again and I might go past caring." Canderous said as he helped her to her feet. They stood innocently in the meeting place and waited for the Jedi

**Bonds **

Bastila rounded the walkway they were nearing the basket when she 'bumped into' Pol's sphere of influence. She halted Juhani in their march. _Pol is nervous as hell. She's excited? Oh bugger she's up to something she shouldn't be. I don't want to see this_. "So Juhani, how have you been since leaving the enclave fitting in ok?"

"Yes Bastila, Pol and Canderous are waiting, we should continue." Juhani made to resume their brisk walk, but Bastila stopped her again. "Is something wrong Padawan Bastila?" She asked intrigued by Bastila's inexplicable change of pace.

"Yes, actually there is, could you swap bunks with me? I wouldn't normally ask, but since we will be on the Hawk for a while I thought it might be a good idea if I had one closer to the door, in case I am needed as co pilot." Bastila fumbled building weak excuses and stalling for time.

"Certainly. Shall we continue or is there something else of fundamental significance that you wish to discuss?" Juhani smiled amused and perplexed by Bastila's behavior.

_Ok Pol has calmed down… Oh dear this bond I really can read her emotional state in close proximity_. "No nothing further. I sense Pol up ahead." Pol and Canderous were standing by a large yellowish wookiee who held the cables for the basket.

"Our friends are here, could you let us down now Gorwooken?" Pol asked politely.

(As you wish keep your arms and legs in the basket, and remain still we don't want to attract anything deadly.)

"So what's going on?" Bastila asked as she stepped into the basket. She looked fabulous, her hair was perfect, despite the near run she had made to get to them. Her clothes were identical to Juhani's and her own but Bastila wore them in a better way. Pol was trying to pin point what it was about her style that made the ordinary look so good when Bastila spoke. "You had better tell me everything."

"Cant." Pol pointed to Gorwooken with her eyes. "So lovely day for hunting don't you think?" she switched subjects with a false smile.

"What happened to your cheek Canderous?" Juhani asked with a frown.

"Pol hits me." He joked expressionlessly.

Juhani examined Pol trying to find the truth of the matter in her eyes. She gave nothing away. It was a quiet and awkward journey down to the shadow lands.


	13. Chapter 13

**Shadowlands**

"I could heal your face Canderous." Juhani made the offer, once they were clear of Gorwooken. Canderous all but hid behind Pol as she said it.

"No I'm good." He snapped. _Get away from me._

"If he won't let Pol there's little chance you or I could convince him otherwise." Bastila confirmed. Juhani nodded in understanding. Some people were troubled by any use of the Force, even the lighter arts such as healing. Juhani slotted the Mandalorian into that category and made a mental note not to heal him without express permission or dire need.

Canderous headed off to scout the vicinity while Pol sat the Jedi down in a relatively pest free area and explained the situation as she saw it. "I would really like to shut this operation down, but Chuundar has too much support, I think Zaalbar's father or whoever this rebel wookiee is may know how." She concluded.

Juhani sighed her voice sang a song of deeper understanding and profound pain. Clearly the slave trade had touched her life. "A noble cause Pol, but it supposes much, we may not be able to save them. However I will do all I can to assist you."

"As will I, but let's find this Star Map before it gets much darker." Bastila bought them back to business.

Canderous waved in the distance and held up four fingers then waved a fifth. "I think we have company." Juhani said rising in a graceful arc. Bastila and Pol followed suit. Canderous rejoined them quickly his scimitar at the ready.

"What's out there?" Bastila asked first.

"Four or more men, armed to the teeth, blaster rifles, wookiee bow casters. Could be hunters, or slavers I couldn't tell in this gloom. Their using energy shields, deflecting their fire won't do much." He said pointing to Pol's lightsaber.

"We have our ways." Juhani purred, though reluctant to admit it a typical Jedi Guardian she loved a scrap as much as Pol did. She stretched and smiled lazily. "Let them come, I am ready."

Pol prepared herself, and looked to Bastila. Bastila was teeth grindingly aware of her and vice versa. "Is it the distance?" Pol asked referring to the bond.

Bastila nodded. "I think so. It always seems intense in close quarters. The further away you are the more it lessens. Hang on I see them now." Bastila reached out with the Force trying to identify the strangers before they came into physical view.

Pol and Juhani also sought them out. "They feel frustrated determined… impatient…inadequate?" Juhani said with a frown.

"Big, huge, gigantic, gaping, inadequacy." Bastila confirmed, looking mysterious and vague.

"Almost man sized, you could say." Pol murmured staring into space.

"I would not be so generous." Juhani said liltingly. Pol and Bastila laughed lightly sharing the joke.

"What the frack are you Jedi on about, do we attack or not? Make up your minds we are losing our advantage fast!" Canderous held his injured cheek; it was really starting to throb. He looked to Pol awaiting some kind of order.

Pol's face divided itself into equal parts of astonishment and hilarity. "Oh Chief, you're not going to believe this but I swear it's Calo Nord!"

Canderous said something under his breath, "I can't believe my luck!" _How did he get off Taris?_

**Revenge of the Nord **

"Can I kill them now?" Canderous asked cracking his knuckles about the hilt of his sword eagerly.

"Knock yourself out Chief." Pol said waving to the group of bounty hunters.

Calo and his men were startled by her voice; they had spent a fruitless week waiting for the Ebon Hawks crew under orders from Malak. That their prey had found them first was a real kick in the teeth. They recovered quickly though settling into a formation to maximize the spray of their blaster fire and waited…

"I see you bought backup this time Calo. Finally figure out we're too much for you on your own?" Canderous said smoothly the hint of a grin skirting his mouth.

"I hope your team of floozies can fight Canderous because you're dead!" Calo proclaimed loudly, as his men opened fire.

Juhani and Bastila deflected the shots easily; Pol got low making herself a smaller target and sent a crippling wave of the Force at their adversaries. As the five men were thrown backwards Canderous covered the space between them with a bound and began the fight in earnest.

"Ok Team Floozy! Juhani you take blue I'll take green Bastila go red." Pol gave directions swiftly assigning each Jedi to an opponent. She didn't factor Calo in as he was already brawling Gamorrean war axe to scimitar with her favorite Mandalorian. _His weapon's too big for him_ she noticed. Canderous had picked that too and was taking advantage of the fact. Pol wrapped the merc she had dubbed green in a stasis field and flung her lightsaber through his suspended torso cutting him down swiftly.

Calo dropped his war axe as Canderous toppled him, and reached for his dagger, he thrust it into the Mandalorians thigh and leapt to his feet. Canderous disregarded the blinding pain and caught Calo's side with his sword, grinding it through his armor to the bone. He drew his own dagger and finished the bounty hunter with a sudden slash to Calo's throat.

Bastila made short work of red's shield with her double bladed lightsaber, but took a blaster shot to her calf, a deflection gone wrong. She rounded to take the next bounty hunter and realized the fight was thankfully over. She healed herself quickly and gathered the group.

Canderous clutched his thigh awkwardly where the dagger still protruded. "Pol," Sweating buckets and head swimming he sank to his knees, fading fast under the poisons influence.

Pol was at his side in an instant. She tore the hem from the bottom of Mission's shirt and wound it about the base of the dagger. "On three," She warned. She counted as far as two and drew the dagger. Its edge was coated in dark blood and residual poison.

_I have to Force heal him… He will hate this_. Pol drew on the Force cleansing his body of the toxins and closing the wound beautifully. _While I am at it he has enough scars, he could do without the shattered cheekbone_. Pol ransacked his body with the Force discovering other injuries. Probing deeply she unearthed hundreds of them old and new, correcting a few badly set bones and reducing the generalized aches that even Canderous's cybernetic implant couldn't ease. She released the Force and looked about her. Juhani and Bastila were watching.

……….

Canderous shuddered as Pol drew the dagger from his thigh. He struggled to maintain consciousness, tried to tell her he had been poisoned, _some kind of tranquilizer in there Champ_. But he couldn't find the breath. His heart revolted in his chest. His lungs felt loaded like breathing in muddy water then suddenly his system was swept clean, he could breath again. His heart ceased its bursting palpitations and restored its usual function, and the tremors in his bones subsided. _Thanks Pol_.

Once the poison was gone he tried to sit up, but found he could not. Pol was holding him down. His face quit its throbbing. _Not my implant kicking in, it's not that fast, Pol what are you doing to me_? He felt an awkward shift in his left leg, the one that still gave him trouble since it was broken all those years ago (not that he had ever mentioned it to a soul). The inflamed muscles he had wrenched during his encounter with Calo were soothed and at last Pol's work was done.

"_Vor entye_ - Thank you," he said sitting up. "That was… new." The Jedi were watching him, all three of them. Pol broke the awkward silence with a joke.

"Was I your first?" She asked saucily.

_Cheeky wench_. "Yeah, now to make things fair can I be yours?" Canderous felt a sharp open handed blow to his face; it snapped his head back and was charged with such vigor that it caused him to blink in shock. _Where the hell did that come from? Not Pol, she's looking more confused than me_. Juhani looked smug.

"I call that the 'Force Slap'." She purred agreeably, "it is especially good for keeping vulgar males in line."

Bastila gaped in full blown admiration. To Canderous's dismay Pol also looked impressed. _Oh no. This looks bad_.

"Can you teach me to do that?" Bastila asked in an ardent voice that bordered on frantic.

"Of course, Pol would you like to learn too?" The Cathar moved languidly towards Pol.

"Oh yeah sign me up baby!" Pol, Bastila and Juhani shook hands conspiratorially. Canderous groaned.

……….

Juhani and Bastila took the lead, seeking signs of the Star Map or the Wookiee, in the Force and their environment. Pol and Canderous followed, chatting quietly amongst themselves. "You didn't have to heal everything." Canderous complained as they trekked through the shadow lands.

"I left your scars, so stop fretting. You had a lot of old wounds there some were going bad." Pol observed.

"I'm an old warrior, comes with the territory."

"Like the sleeplessness. I know it's not just me keeping you awake." She said.

"Hyper vigilance is a state our young warriors are taught to embrace. Night time is usually the time of greatest threat so we sleep lightly in short shifts." Canderous explained the lifestyle; confident that Pol, a veteran of two wars herself would understand completely.

"While you're answering my tedious questions, when did you last have a good night sleep?" She asked.

"When I was a child, probably I guess it would have had to have been before my tenth birthday." Canderous admitted.

"But sleeping next to the nightmare queen doesn't really help does it?"

"Actually Pol if anything I am more relaxed with you near by, I like knowing where you are." Pol missed a step catching her overlong trousers on a fallen branch; Canderous caught her waist and she leaned into him to regain her footing. "Be careful Pol." Canderous warned, and they trudged on boots catching slightly in the heavy mulch of the forest floor.

**Jolee Bindo**

Jolee Bindo, ex Jedi sat cross legged on what passed for his front porch in the shadow lands. He meditated out of habit more than anything else and had kept his lightsaber out of convenience. It was green signifying his former status as a Jedi consular. The consular arm of the Jedi faction primarily focuses on Force use rather than martial combat. His meditations drifted when he sensed them.

_Three Jedis, in the Kashyyyk shadow lands no less. Come to see if old man Bindo will rejoin the Order I wonder…Lets see, we got two regular Force sensitive souls both strong and trained, and one exceptionally dazzling Force user, now who the hell could that be? Why no one has been that strong since young whatshername went bad after the wars. And another fellow, dead to the Force though recently affected by it. Hearts bleeding for the dazzling one; like a stuck boma though he denies it even to himself. Now what was her name again? It has to be her. No one else could command that kind of loyalty out of four vastly different souls. Moreover what are they doing in my yard_?

Jolee dropped his meditations abruptly and headed out to meet the Jedi. _Oh ho ho an angry bull Katarn ahead! Best clear the path for the young people_. He swung his lightsaber to readiness and took on the enormous beast valiantly. Its mate joined the fray and Jolee was beset on both sides. Jolee stunned the female chasing her away with the Force and then ended the life male Katarn with a stroke from his lightsaber.

"A Jedi." Juhani said to her companions. Her search had been heavily reliant on the Force in the murkiness of the shadow lands and the Jedi appeared as a sudden bright flare in her psychic vision.

The Star Map seekers changed course and headed towards the unknown Jedi cautiously. When they arrived they saw a well aged Jedi wielding a green lightsaber against one of the native beasts. Like most consular Jedi he fought with the Force more than the blade and while he clearly had the knack of the weapon he lacked the finesse of Juhani's strikes, Bastila's stoic aptitude and Pol's unique flamboyance.

At the end of his bout Jolee doused his weaponry and peered myopically at the newcomers. _A Mandalorian hmmm… And a Cathar now theses a race you don't see much these days. Oo she's a pretty young thing, and then there is talented one, that's it step where I can see you girl. It has to be her… Now what was her name!_

"Revan! That's it, I knew I'd recall once I saw you up close." Jolee Bindo exclaimed running his hand over his smooth pate and smiling. The mood suddenly changed. _Something I said_? He wondered.

Juhani hissed in surprise _Foolish old man_! In her panic she froze Pol on the spot. _What to do_? She looked at Bastila for direction the Jedis face was a mask of alarm. Juhani tried to follow her gaze but was halted by a large hand that encircled her neck crushing her to submission. She felt the knife before she saw it, her eyes dropped to it. The dagger was hard up against her rib cage, and already beginning to draw blood.

"Whatever you did to her you best undo it Cathar or this goes into your lung." Canderous threatened pressing the knife in. It was still dotted with Calo's arterial spray, and Juhani's blood ran lightly down the length of it mingling intimately.

"Stand down Canderous! Juhani knows who Pol is." Bastila ordered.

Jolee watched over the scene with detached interest. _What a fascinating little puzzle! This is more entertaining than booby trapping Czerka's claims with the monkey dung!_

Juhani disregarded her predicament and snarled at the old Jedi who was lurking close by nosily. "And now so does Pol."

"She knew already!" Canderous growled through clenched teeth as he applied more pressure to Juhani's neck. Her throat constricted under the crushing strength of the Mandalorians hand, black dots danced before her vision and her skull screamed.

"Canderous stand down! Juhani release Pol." Bastila looked ashen. "Juhani I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't risk you going to the council." Juhani summoned the strength to thaw Pol and Canderous stood down. He left the Cathar and gathered Pol up helping her to her feet while Bastila healed Juhani's wounds. Juhani's act had earned her a two inch deep incision just shy of her lung and severe bruising to her spine and windpipe.

"I am sorry Pol." Juhani said when she was able.

"Well I think now would be the perfect time for a nice cup of tea!" Jolee beamed. _Funny bunch these ones_! Jolee was ignored. _Typical young people, so self absorbed. Nothing's more important to the than their own foolish endeavors. Oh dear that Revan, she has a Force bond with the pretty one. Most unfair, to the poor kid it's like watching a little tach monkey hiding in a rancor's nest_.

He turned his attentions away from Bastila and to Revan and the Mandalorian who were squabbling in his dialect. _She always did have a thing for languages. An ex Sith lord taking on a Mandalorian brute, I wonder who will win, ha! My moneys on Revan, she has that boy crazier than a droid in an ion storm. _

Pol looked at Canderous incredulously. "Apologize to her!" She demanded in his native patois, pointing to Juhani.

"WHY?" Canderous shouted back and placed his hand on his hips defiantly.

"YOU were out of line; you OVERREACTED to put it mildly. Don't you try anything like that EVER again."

"What am I supposed to do next time some one discovers who you are? You're not exactly miss popularity in Republic space Revan." _How the frack can I keep you safe if you won't let me do my job, stupid girl!_

"Just do it and don't call me that! I need her help." _Stupid man, who does he think he is!_

"Fine." Canderous agreed switched back to basic and apologized in a Canderous sort of way. "Juhani that was an unfortunate misunderstanding," He tilted his head apathetically and looked out to the forest depths sourly.

"Apology accepted Mandalorian." Juhani stated blandly.

"Juhani do you think you can still work with us?" Pol asked desperately.

Juhani smiled sadly. "How can you ask such a thing after all that you have done for me?" The Cathar asked, "What does my redemption mean if I can not trust in yours Revan?"

"Thank you for your faith Juhani, but please don't call me that. It's Pol now."

"Then we should continue in our task Pol." Juhani said with a forgiving smile.

"Whoa now, perhaps one of you younglings would like to tell an old man what is going on?" Jolee spoke up, apparently there was only so much being ignored an old man could take.

"My apologies I am Padawan Bastila Shan, might I ask who you are Master Jedi?"

"First of all I am an ex Jedi, retired. I'm just Jolee Bindo now and you are in my back yard. So what can I do for you, retrieve a lost ball perhaps, an anti-grav Frisbee gone astray? Star Map? Oh ho! That got your attention. I figured that's what you would be here about once I saw her." Jolee pointed to Pol.

"You know where the Star Map is?" Pol asked.

"I suspect I do, but it's broken. Why do you seek it?"

"We are not at liberty to say Master Bindo," Bastila refused politely.

"It's just Jolee. I won't say it again young lady! Now if you want my help you can come back to my cottage and tell me what's been going on and what you want with the Star Map like civilized people."

"I don't suppose we have a choice?" Pol asked cheekily.

"No not unless you have some tea leaves and a kettle hidden under that meager excuse for clothing. Follow me." Jolee Bindo led the way back to his home on the forest floor.

Pol clutched at her (Mission's) blouse. With the hem of the shirt torn away and Carth's trousers slung low on her hips her belly was exposed, the leg ends of the pants dragged in the leaf litter. Canderous looked her over with a frown, and crouched to fold the cuffs of her pants. "Stay still; you keep tripping cause of these." Pol blushed. _I'm such a goof; thismust be a new thing cuz as oafish as I am I couldn't possibly have been Revan_. They followed Jolee to his home in contemplative silence.

**Jolee's Place**

They sat about the tree round that Jolee used as a table in his earthen dwelling sipping tea as Pol and Bastila tried to explain the situation. Canderous listened keenly; this was more of Pol's tale than he had ever heard.

"Thanks to Malak's betrayal I was able to get the upper hand, but though I had Revan in my sights I couldn't bring myself to kill her." Bastila admitted. "So she was bought back to the council for a mind wipe. The plan was to set her up with new memories and to keep watch on her once she was released. We signed her on as a soldier for the Republic, but her link to the Force was so strong that she was recalled after a few months, but on the way to Dantooine we were waylaid by a Sith fleet and crash-landed on Taris. Through the bond I forged to spare her life it became evident that she had residual memories of her past. When we returned to Dantooine, rather than wipe her mind again a new plan was formed by the council to train Pol and set us on Malak's trail." Bastila said.

"They hoped, since the dark taint was gone, to use my half erased memories and inside knowledge to find the star forge responsible for the Sith fleet." Pol sipped her tea, reflectively.

"But Pol's full memories returned the second she began to retrace her steps." Bastila intoned gravely.

"You did not know of your past when you met me?" Juhani asked quietly.

"I did not know at the time, though I suspected something was amiss." She looked at Canderous, he acknowledge her quietly. "If I had it would not have changed my actions, in the grove Juhani, I am not exactly Miss Sweetness and light, but I am not evil. I do not follow the Jedi code blindly as I once did, because it was in part, my downfall, but that is another story." Pol explained.

"Pol agreed to help us fight Malak under the condition that she did it her way. I don't approve of her dismissal of the Jedi conventions, but I could see no other choice." Bastila looked sternly at Canderous, who smirked back at her. "The council will not use Pol as the weapon she can be if they know of her revelation."

"They'll be so scared she will go darkside again that they'll wipe her mind before you can say 'boo!' and spoil all your fun!" Jolee hooted, "You poor mixed up kids, so who else on this ship of fools knows about Pol?"

"No one, they'd be reluctant to work with me if they knew. In fact I suspect our pilot will want to kill me when he finds out." Pol shivered brimming to the gums with nausea. Her friendship with Cath had been a battle against his paranoia. Now that his paranoid inklings had been confirmed she felt worse for befriending him.

"Carth is replaceable, you aren't." Canderous barked. "If Republic doesn't like it we can always find a new pilot."

To his surprise Juhani nodded in agreement. "He should be told though, if we are all in this together as Pol says." Juhani added.

"The less lies the better, I am sick of the intrigue." Pol agreed; _let's get it all over with_.

"Very well, as representative of the council in this mission and seeing it was my idea to conceal your revelation from the Order and Juhani; I shall be the one to tell him." Bastila accepted her responsibility with stately solemnity beyond her years. Pol touched her hand in thanks, and to indicate her pride in the woman's brave wisdom. Pol's eyes clouded over.

"Mission." Pol she said looking teary.

"Blue is stronger than she looks, she loves you Champ. Give her a chance." Canderous suggested.

"It's going to get dark in an hour or so, darker anyways if you are planning on going back to your ship you'd best hurry missy. I will take the rest of you to the Star Map in the morning, no sense in doing it at night when all the big predators are out. Go on hop to it!" Jolee said.

Bastila stood up and said her farewells. Juhani Canderous and Pol settled in. Jolee began preparing a meal. "She will be fine. Smart girl that one, now how much should I cook?" Jolee looked at Juhani and Pol, and counted out medium portions. He looked at Canderous. "Big guy aint cha?" He commented and dealt out double for the Mandalorian and a small serving for himself.

They continued their discussion over bowls of mysterious steaming green stuff. "So Pol, why does it look as though you are wearing your big brothers pants?"

_Little brothers_, Pol thought with a sad twang of guilt. "There has been a clothing shortage."

"Remind me to pack my own then; no one needs to see my wrinkled butt more than twice."

"Who needs to see it once?" Canderous scoffed.

"Packing Mast- Jolee?" Juhani dropped the title mid way though her sentence. "Why will you need to pack?"

"I am going with you; consider it payment for my help with the Star Map. You could use a dose of old cantankerous old coot in your party." He said.

"And I thought the Mandalorian veteran was ample." Juhani derided with a sly grin.

"Bah." Canderous grunted.

"Your help would be most welcome Jolee."

"You're going to let him come?" Canderous asked in Mando'a skeptically.

"Yeah you know me and grumpy old men. I'm starting a collection," Pol joked. Reverting to basic she asked Jolee for help with Zaalbar's predicament. "While you are being so helpful there is another 'delicate' matter you might be able to help us with." Pol began.

"Well delicate is what old men excel at! What can I do for you Pol?" Jolee rested his chin in his hands, his elbows on the table, his eyes were bright and merry and they danced below his fantastic eyebrows.

"I'm looking for a Wookiee…"

His eyes widened and he pointed a bony finger skyward. "Well then you've come to the right place," switching humorously to a foreboding baritone he added, "Except they're all up there in the wroshyr." Pol wondered whether senility had set in or if he just had a fine sense of humor. Either way she decided she liked him.

"Not this one." Pol said.

"Oh you seek Freyyr." Jolee waved his hands about his face miming the characteristics of an old wookiee. His crooked fingers paused at the peaks of his own goatee and he used it as a kind of prop to mime a wookiee mane.

"Chuundar wants his head." Canderous stated impassively. Pol saluted him, and Juhani Force slapped him. Jolee cackled.

_Oh I like these girls they got plenty of spirit!_ "Chuundar is a young hooligan who wouldn't know his furry butt from his shaggy elbow! He's signed on with Czerka sold his people out in exchange for weaponry."

"We hope to change that." Juhani said.

"With Freyyr's help, Zaalbar mentioned he was the former chieftain." Pol said.

"You know the wookiee exile?" Jolee looked startled.

"Life debt." Canderous explained as he cleared the table.

"Well you haven't lost your knack Revan, sorry Pol." Jolee corrected himself with a shake of the head. "You always had a way of reeling them in."

"I had a knack?" Pol asked.

"Well yeah! Look at the way you dominate young Bastila, dear flower of a girl that she is. Your affect on Force users is profound, always has been. That's how you rounded up all those bright young Jedi to go fight in the Mandalorian wars. But this link you have with Bastila, is powerful you nearly drown her in you. The Order is wise to fear that. It's just as well you are on the right path."

_I broke Malak. I had a Force bond with Malak and I lead him down the dark path_. "I see. I will have to be more careful of her."

"Yes you will. You're going to have to face your past too." Jolee said seriously. He pushed in his chair and began rummaging through a box for bedding. Every so often he would toss an article out behind himself. Juhani caught them and made up beds. Canderous cleared floor space by shifting the heavy table. Pol sat glumly, budging only once the table was dragged away from her. With no where left to rest her elbows she stood and tried to be useful.

"I will take you to Freyyr's lair as well then. So Zaalbar is with you?" Jolee asked as he rustled about his belongings.

"Yes and no, he came with me but Chuundar is holding him to ransom for Freyyr's head." Pol answered. _I didn't even think of Zaalbar's reaction to the Revan thing. _

"That's a big bed Juhani," Jolee observed the Jedis work. She had made two single sleeping areas and one double.

"For Pol and Canderous, they usually camp together." She explained.

"Well dear girl, let's hope they behave themselves, I'd hate to meet the love child of that union in a dark alley." Jolee hooted with genuine mirth and settled himself down for a nights sleep.

**Bastila the Magnificent**

Recalling an early lesson in use of the Force Bastila drew a line mentally between Jolee's hut and the basket. She marked a new point from the basket to the village and the village to Czerka's post and the Hawk. She followed it with the words of her tutors resounding in her mind. _Force users need not lose their way. Let the Force guide your step when sight fails you_.

This was one of many lessons that Pol had been exempted from in her brief retraining. Bastila wondered again how much of Pol's early education the woman would recall. In former life as Revan she had been a dedicated pupil.

_It is definitely getting darker_. She noticed. Bastila stopped her foot inches form the corpse of a wookiee. _Oh dear it's fresh._ She noticed. _Thank the Force for small mercies it doesn't smell, well no worse than live Wookiees do_. She turned back to face Jolee's hermitage for a moment seeking Pol through their bond. _Anxiety, guilt, sorrow, regret …there is no emotion there is peace_. She resumed her trek back to the Hawk, aware that the further she got from Pol the less of her she felt. The distance was liberating.

Bastila sensed three people ahead of her. She snuck closer for a visual. Mandalorian warriors. They were cloaked and had been covertly dispatching Wookiees that dared the shadow lands. _Scum!_ With a war cry Bastila leapt into action killing the leader instantly with her lightsaber. The other two Mandalorians tried to corner her against the trunk of a great tree. She dazed one with the Force and repelled him so that he was out of her range. She struck out at the last meeting his vibroblade with her lightsaber. Deftly cutting him below his guard she executed him and looked to the Mandalorian raider she had thrown.

He held his hands up in surrender. "Easy now, don't kill me. I have no quarrel with you Jedi." He said voice contorted by the voder in his helmet.

"Go then, take your clan and don't come back." Bastila threatened. The Mandalorian turned tail and fled into the forest depths. Bastila took the basket to the upper canopy without trouble. She thanked Gorwooken, who was still on duty, and hoped she had pronounced his name correctly.

Bastila fought off a clutch of forest Mykals' and a Kinrath between the village and the outpost. At last, near full dark she crossed the treetop terrace to Czerka's post. She passed a food vendor and stopped to buy a fresh meal for the Hawks skeleton crew.

While she waited for the vendor to package the food Bastila noticed a young Czerka employee was leering at her. "Well now you are one gorgeous dame, how are you this evening?" He asked the polite words made ugly by his vulgar tone.

"I am most definitely better off without your company." Bastila answered truthfully. She paid the vendor and made to leave. The Czerka employee stepped in her way. Bastila cursed Mission's taste in clothing and Pol for letting her shop. _Simply perfect my Force reserves are low and now my hands are full_. Bastila looked at the bags in her hands regretfully.

"You sure sweetheart? I could help you carry those bags." He asked staring point blank down her cavernous cleavage.

"I am fine, let me pass." Bastila muttered. She lacked the strength form her earlier encounters to Force persuade the man into buggering off.

He sleazed closer, cutting rudely into her personal space and said. "If you want to get past you got to pay the kiss toll." He puckered up and waited.

_Bloody men! The audacity!_ "Pay this you hairless wookiee!" Bastila had just enough Force reserves to employ Juhani's patented 'Force Slap' with satisfying effect. With a private chuckle to herself and a blessing to her Cathar friend she continued on her way to the Hawk's landing pad. _Thank you Juhani_!


	14. Chapter 14

**Revelations**

"Bastila you are back." Carth said looking up from his reading. He stowed the datapad and looked at Bastila. _Wow she looks gorgeous and she bought real food._

"Yes, I will fill you in on our progress in a moment, first I there is something I wish to discuss with you." Bastila said carefully. Her dark blue eyes were wide and the truth in them shone like a beacon to her beauty. "Is Mission around?"

_Hoo boy, this is unexpected. She wants to 'talk'_. "Uh yeah, she's sulking in the bunkroom still upset over her spat with Zaalbar as far as I can tell."

"Could you put this in the galley, I will call Mission to dinner." Bastila handed the food to Carth and left the common room.

_Wishful thinking bantha brain, of course she doesn't want to 'talk' to you alone_. Carth set the bench for three and waited for Mission and Bastila to return. He didn't have to wait long. Mission's blue pixie profile emerged form the hall and Bastila followed. They sat and Carth raised the question again. "So what's this about?"

"I would rather we ate first. It may ruin your appetite." The Jedi said.

"Oh no don't tell me Zaalbar has been loafing juma farts again!" Mission squealed. Carth and Mission laughed, as long as they couldn't smell it, it was funny.

"I have no idea what that means. And I do not wish to know. Mission, elbows off the table please." Bastila instructed. _How do I tell them their dear friend is/was the most hated woman in the galaxy? And how do I tell Mission Zaalbar is in trouble_.

When they had finished the meal Bastila took them to the common room to talk. "It's about Revan." she began.

Carth asked. "Did you find the Star Map? Where are the others?"

"No not yet, the others are still looking for it. Please don't interrupt this is difficult enough as it is Carth." Bastila took a deep breath. She had rehearsed the speech on her way back from Jolee Bindo's between fights and it had seemed sufficient but now facing Mission and Carth she seemed less certain. "I did not kill Revan, physically." She said. _There that's a good start_.

"But it's what you are famous for." Carth said looking confused. "That and battle meditation."

"I didn't kill Revan, I lead the Jedi who captured her. She was bought before the Order and her mind was wiped. All that was Revan was destroyed."

Carth spoke angrily, "But not her legacy."

"No not that. Carth you do know that Malak was responsible for the attacks on Telos and Taris don't you?"

"Yeah and Saul Karath how could I forget," Carth answered gravely. Mission nodded sadly.

"What's this about Bastila?" Mission asked quietly concerned _Bastila looks so sad_. _I hope everyone is ok_.

"I am getting to that. When Revan's mind was wiped it was replaced with fictitious memories of a life as a scout." Bastila wept openly. Mission inched closer and put her arm about the forlorn Jedi. Carth looked on feeling sick, at once aware where it was going and in denial of the destination.

"Bastila are you ok?" Carth asked fending off the nausea that erupted form what he sensed was to be a mighty upheaval of their lives.

"Let me finish. You have to hear this." She said between sobs. "She became a Republic soldier, her name is Pol Valor."

Mission's arm fell from Bastila's shoulders. She shrugged into herself balling up on the couch, her eyes were like thunderstorms and tears paraded down her face. "No. Pol was Revan?"

"Yes, she was." Bastila confirmed.

"This cant be true." Carth stated in disbelief.

"It is true Carth." Bastila said.

"Can she be trusted, can YOU be trusted after you lied to us?" Carth raged, stomping off to the far corner of the room. He leaned hard up against the wall, arms folded face smoldering darkly from beneath the hair that fell in his eyes.

Mission spoke quietly. "Does she know?" She asked timidly her blue face wet with tears.

"Yes. She knows now, she can be trusted Carth. She wants to redeem herself."

"It's too late for that Bastila." I can't believe how you have lied to us Bastila. _No wonder the Mandalorian is obsessed with Pol-Revan._

"But is it really? Juhani was saved by Pol no less, and she's lovely! I can't believe Pol could be evil, not after how kind she has been to us all." Mission asked through a fresh watering of tears.

"Mission, Pol isn't evil. If she fell to the darkside I would know instantly." _Because I would fall too_, she thought. "Carth if you can not deal with this Pol will understand, we will return you to your fleet and find a new pilot."

"No way someone needs to keep an eye on you two. I'm staying I've come this far I want to see this thing through to the end."

"As you wish Carth, what about you Mission?"

"She really wants to make up for it?" Mission wiped her face.

"Yes she really does."

"Is there any of Revan left in her?"

"No Mission, just nightmares of what she did as a Sith. That they are nightmares to her speaks volumes about her alignment now." Bastila was sure to catch Carth's eye as she said this. He nodded, still frowning. _He is as the Mandalorian would say a loose canon; I am going to have to watch Carth very carefully around Pol_. Bastila decided.

"Is there anything else you wish to tell us Bastila?" Carth asked superciliously.

"Yes, Zaalbar will be staying with his brother during our stay on Kashyyyk." _There, a white lie, for a good reason. Oh Pol you had better get him back_.

**Jolee's Backyard **

Canderous and Pol went outside to talk in private. They had unfinished business as Canderous put it, but it was Pol that started the fight.

"What in space was that about today?" Pol stabbed angrily.

"What?" _This again? _

"You going nova on Juhani!"

"Pol, we have been though this. How many people do you think would like to kill you if they knew who you were?" Canderous's argument heated as Pol's cooled. _That's it; if anyone messes with her head again I AM going to butcher them in cold blood Pol is crazy enough as is. _

"Plenty," Pol admitted backing down. _Uh oh, he's doing the angry eyes. _

"And how much to you think I am going to give to keep you alive?"

"Plenty?" Pol cringed. _He's really riled… I've never seen the Chief so mad._

"DAMN STRAIGHT." After his last outburst he slumped against the wall of the cottage. The fight seemed to go out of him when he saw Pol had taken his point to heart.

Pol trod eggshells trying not to upset Canderous again but unwilling to give up on her side of the argument. "But Bastila and Juhani care too, they're also trying to keep me alive."

Canderous sighed heavily. "They want you alive for some sappy do-gooder ulterior motive - saving the galaxy. I have no such motive. Pol, do you ever wonder what is going to happen to you when your task is complete?"

"Frack, I don't know, I see your point. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Oh, and remind me to hang a sign on your door, a big one that says 'don't poke the Zakkeg'. You're scary when you're mad Chief." Pol smiled warily.

"Sorry." He said after a long silence.

Pol grinned like a fiend. "Lemme adjust my holocorder, I don't think I got that the first time."

"Well too bad cuz I'm not saying it again. I was _right_, you were _wrong_. I only apologized because I lost my temper." Canderous rationalized.

Pol extended a finger and poked him in the arm mischievously with it. "More than usual."

"Oh shut up Pol." He said taking her by the arm. Pol wound herself about him, looking up into his eyes.

"You know you really narked me off today." Pol said trying not to smile and failing miserably.

"Likewise you narked me off when you went overboard with that healing." Canderous kissed Pol's forehead and ran his hands down her back soothingly.

"Ah but you feel better for it don't you?" Pol asked resting her head against his chest. She listened to his reply each word echoing though his steady heartbeat.

"Excessively good, dangerous almost…Wanna find out how much better I feel?"

Canderous ran his hands about her midriff. It was getting cold out and no one had thought to bring Pol a change of clothing. She shivered under his touch. "You never give up do you?" Pol laughed kissing his neck.

"No, and even when you are as old and grey as me I still won't quit." He lifted her chin with his hand and kissed her fervently. They embraced awkwardly as they kissed, precariously balanced but too intoxicated by the clinch to care.

"You know," Pol said dizzily, "If we both lean that way, we will fall over." They leaned, and staggered, proving Pol's theory. "We should probably go in, and get some sleep." She said shyly.

"Don't worry Pol, just because we're sharing a bed doesn't mean I am going to pull a sly one on you." Canderous drawled.

"You are a gentle-Mandalorian and a scholar Ordo."

"Yeah, just don't tell anyone ok?"

"They wouldn't believe me if I did." Pol breathed as she stepped inside the hovel.

**Morning on Kashyyyk **

"Good morning." Pol's voice croaked as she choked on her early morning whisper. Canderous lay beside her, and from the looks of things he had been staring at her, willing her to wake for quite a while. Through the window of Jolee's shack Pol could see it was marginally lighter outside. _I could almost get used to mornings._ She thought admiring the view.

"Good morning." Canderous murmured. Leaning forward he kissed her cheek and rested back on one elbow. He lay on top of the blankets, half dressed, his pants were on but he was shirtless and bootless; Pol looked him over from head to toe and smiled.

"Where are the others?" Pol asked realizing Canderous was being more 'obvious' in his affections for her than usual.

Canderous grinned. "Out," He said, brushing the hair from her face. He undid the first few buttons on her blouse and kissed a trail across her shoulders. "Getting breakfast," His stubble scuffed her skin slightly as he kissed the base of her throat.

"Why is it that the only time of day you are not grumpy is the one time normal people are? You are a sick man." Pol complained halfheartedly and ruffled his hair.

"So cure me." Canderous suggested, pulling her body close to his. They were interrupted seconds later. _Oh for frack's sake! Great timing, they were supposed to be out foraging for breakfast_. Juhani and Jolee returned bearing armloads of vegetables from Jolee's garden. They looked at the couple on the floor. Pol had rolled away from Canderous quickly and was wearing crimson her face and the bed sheets to her chin.

Pol died. "Oh good one Canderous! So much for your hyper-vigilance," She groaned softly in Mando'a.

Canderous made a point of not facing the intruders as he dragged his shirt on. "I hate to break it to you Champ, but there is a point where all that goes out of the window. The roof could cave in and I wouldn't notice." He schooled his face back to its usual scowl and thought lackluster and tedious thoughts about undesirable things.

Pol grinned trying not to stare at Canderous. "I'm afraid your Consultation with Dr Valor will have to be postponed, my amorous thug." She cooed, forgetting herself momentarily she sad it in basic and Jolee laughed aloud at the comment. _Oops_. Pol died again.

"There's no curing what he's got. I should know I've been there myself." Jolee cackled.

"You were in love Jolee?" Juhani asked as she prepared the breakfast of forest fodder they had gathered from Jolee's garden. Canderous rolled his eyes._ In_ _love? Bah._ Cured of his ardor Canderous grabbed his weapons belt and boots. Pol adjusted her blouse where it had been Canderous-ed and threw back the covers. They faced the interrupters with strained composure.

"Ah Nayama, terrible woman, wouldn't make the bed, but she could make a good sandwich." Jolee sang.

"Was she a Jedi?" Juhani purred as she chopped the greens into precise slithers.

"Not exactly, she was a Sith. But that's a long story I'll tell you some time if we ever get stuck in a turbolift. For now there is breakfast to be had, a Star Map to found, a rebellion to incite, and a wookiee to rescue. I think that's enough for one day, don't you kids?"

"Absolutely," Pol agreed as she helped Canderous roll away the bedding and replace the table.

**Czerka - Monkey Bothering **

"Nine men up ahead." Pol said.

"That will be the Czerka tach hunters." Jolee explained.

"They hunt these little simians?" Juhani asked, with a sad look for the little furry imps that capered innocuous by their feet.

Canderous frowned in distaste. "Brave men I see. Trembling behind their sonic emitters, hunting the tiny simians, and cowering from the challenging predators," His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"You feel sorry for the little tach?" Juhani asked with surprise.

"No, I feel sorry for the mothers that bore such wretched cowards." Canderous said.

Pol whispered to Juhani. "The Chief doesn't like 'cute' things." She ginned conspiratorially.

"Pol you speak Cathar?" Juhani exclaimed, pleasantly surprised.

"A little," Pol admitted. "I'm not much chop but I can make myself understood."

"Ahem, girls, is there something you wish to share with the other Padawans?" Jolee asked in an authoritarian tone, his bushy eyebrows rose in query; they stood out as white smudges against his dark skin, even in the dimness. "No? Well quit your covert caterwauling and let's get back to the task." He pointed to the Czerka hunters. "I have been meaning to do something about them for some time now. But there are so many of them that I need some support to my '_persuasive_' ability, if you get my drift."

"I could persuade them." Canderous said looking about as nasty and crooked as a Mandalorian can, without raising his fist.

"I know you could, but leave it to the Jedi this time. I'll go and talk to them." Pol smiled exultantly, her eyes gleaming with self confidence as she stalked over to her prey. Canderous watched her approach as he followed her staying an even ten paces behind.

The guard captain introduced himself. He looked at Pol's ragged attire with bête-noir, though his eyes appreciated what lay beneath more than Canderous liked. The Mandalorian dropped his ten pace rule and made himself known coming out of the shadows to stand behind Pol with typical heavy-handed intent. The captain adopted a more businesslike demeanor under the larger mans watch. "So why are you hunting the tach?" Pol asked affably as Jolee and Juhani joined the gathering.

"They posses a gland that, when powdered, is the key ingredient in Tarisian ale, we hunt them for that." The captain eyeballed Jolee mistrustfully. He had met the old Jedi before, and still got headaches over the encounter. Jolee smiled a hello to his nemesis the points of his white goatee beard tweaking mischievously.

"That's it! I am never drinking beer again." Canderous promised with a scowl.

"You sure you don't feel sorry for the little scamps Chief?" Pol teased. The tach were undeniably cute.

"No. I just don't like the idea of drinking something some critter has peed through." He drawled.

"I do not think it is that gland Canderous." Juhani said, her mouth curving subtly with mirth. Every word she said with that accent sounded flirtatious and Pol laughed at the reaction Juhani won from their male companions. _Juhani is too cool._ Pol chuckled inwardly.

"Ok children enough with the droll repartee, let's ask nicely." Jolee announced miming a Force gesture.

Pol lead the charge, combining her persuasive ability with the other Jedi, she borrowed small reserves of the Force from them and made her request in dulcet tones.

"You know captain," she asked, sealing the deal by tracing his lapel with her finger enticingly. "Taris is trashed. Without Taris there is no stable market for this operation. You are wasting valuable time and credits out here, you really should leave and not come back."

"You know," the captain repeated as Pol let go of his jacket. "There really isn't a market for Tarisian ale now that Taris is dust. Men let's move out and never come back."

Pol wiped her hands in disgust on her borrowed trousers as she watched the tach hunters flee._ That's it nark off and don't come back you filthy tach worrier. _

Canderous missed Pol's decontamination rite, as he was to busy scowling after the captain jealously. "I didn't think he was your type, Pol." He accused darkly.

"He's not, I swear it. Unfortunately for me 'Force Persuade' has always worked best with physical contact." It was just one of those things she had remembered from her former life as Revan.

"Could you persuade me to do something?" He asked in Mandalorian. Canderous looked partly concerned, but halfway intrigued by the prospect of having Pol using her persuasive Force powers on him. I_ wonder what she would have me do…Hmm probably something nasty…Like petting the tach. _

"Could you raise arms against me?" Pol pointed at the heavy repeater that slung over Canderous's shoulder. He was heavily armed, blade, dagger, grenades, and rifle, he wore the black short sleeved shirt he had left the Hawk with the day before. His arms were bare the clan tattoos were peeking out from below the sleeve. The humidity had been hard on the three newcomers to the shadow lands. She noticed that perspiration left damp trails of darker black on his shirt starting between his pectoral muscles and falling to his navel.

He shook his head. "No you know I couldn't, but a favor from a lady is a little different than an eyeful of firearm from a heavy." _I know what kind of urging I would prefer to be on the receiving end of. _

"Which is why I have my artful methods, and you prescribe to the ruffian school of persuasion." Pol answered seriously. Jolee was disabling the force field that spanned the gap between them and their destination. Juhani lingered at a polite distance from Jolee, observing his work.

"I was wondering about those two, does it strike you as an unusual match Jolee? Revan defeated his people, and yet she has his friendship."

"Not really unusual, knowing what I know of Mandalorian culture it was almost inevitable. The upper echelon of Mandalorian social order is dominated by the warrior. The highest rank in Mandalorian society is Mandalore, their leader who is (or was) their best warrior. Revan defeated Mandalore, proving herself the superior warrior, and claiming a reverence that borders on royalty in doing so. No doubt that is one of many things Canderous finds irresistible in young Pol. The other things, he admires…Aside from her martial prowess aren't too hard to guess at." Jolee concluded with a chuckle.

Juhani smiled knowingly. Pol stood by Canderous. His head was bowed a little, an attempt to negate the height difference between them. They spoke quietly, not touching physically, but Juhani's view through the Force told a different story.

The Mandalorian's aura leaned towards Pol's like a protective embrace_, very unusual_. Juhani read. Pol's aura - like her clothing - hung invitingly from her curves; it starred a little at the edges, drawing the loyalty of the Jedi around her. It tugged most noticeably on the Force Sensitive but her affect on Canderous's aura was different, she was not drawing him in, his spirit shared space with hers autonomously and willingly. Though he curved to her there was a clean differentiation. _She can be sure of him, but not of us as he is dead to the Force. He follows her of his own volition. _

Juhani looked at Jolee's aura; it trailed off in Pol's direction - as did her own - stopping short of any actual connection. They were not bound the way that Bastila's aura was. Bastila's Force bond was like a thin spidery web that had attached itself to Pol like a leash. The further they were apart, the more stretched and transparent the line. When they were in close proximity, they merged together and Pol's aura overshadowed Bastila's domineeringly.

Letting go of her view though the Force; Juhani continued to discreetly study the pair. Every so often Pol's laugher would tinkle through the air and Canderous seemed to thrive on the sound of it. Juhani grazed her eyes over Pol admiringly while she waited for Jolee to deactivate the barrier.

"There, it's open!" Jolee cheered.


	15. Chapter 15

**Kashyyyk Star Map **

After a long and dull trek through the lower reaches of Kashyyyk's under lands, they arrived at the computer. "Ah there it is the obstinate thing. I never could get it to work." Jolee grouched.

"Ok, let's see what it's got." Pol approached the computer warily made all the more apprehensive by the incident at the last Star Map. Her group watched her closely as she investigated the computer. A holo-interface sprang to light and greeted them in galactic basic.

(Computer: conducting pattern recognition scan: Match Found.)

"Match found? Bah." Jolee frowned. "It only ever said pattern rejected for me."

"Rejected by a computer, Bindo? That reminds me of Elise." Canderous laughed.

"Who is Elise?" Jolee asked.

"I'll tell you if we ever get stuck in a turbolift." Canderous said with a wry laugh. He had found the droid in the end and destroyed it. Elise had not been impressed.

"What do you mean, 'match found'?" Pol asked.

(Error: Subject's shows unfamiliarity to her surrounds.)

"I seek the Star Map."

(Computer: I am programmed with a limited field of information accessible only to the subject that matches my recorded patter.)

"Well, if I fit the pattern can you give me the information?"

(Answer: I can't say. I will bring forward the behavioral pattern you need to proceed as outlined in my programming. Awaiting acceptance of evaluation.)

"Begin your evaluation, computer." Pol said spreading her arms wide.

(Evaluation commencing: You travel with a Wookiee and encounter complications. You and your companion Zaalbar are captured and separated. You are sentenced to one year each if you both resist questioning, but two years each if you accuse each other. What would you do?)

"I would trust Zaalbar he would say nothing and I would say nothing." Pol said plainly.

(By trusting Zaalbar you risk one to five years incarceration. If you accuse Zaalbar you risk one to two years. Your loyalty is dangerous. Zaalbar's family is mired in treachery, what do they know about loyalty? Answer incorrect failure to match pattern requirement subject rejected.)

"I think I will just take it apart." Pol said to Juhani and the others.

(Threat of hostility matches pattern but subjects has failed initial behavior recognition initiating defense procedure.)

"Uh oh," Pol leapt to one side dodging a stun ray. She gave a shout and pointed to two battle droids that were fast approaching. Canderous opened fire on them and Juhani bounded to meet them her blue lightsaber whirring violently. Jolee stood back calmly surveying the scene; he watched the battle for a second chuckled softly and then disabled both droids completely with a burst of the Force.

Canderous stopped firing first. Juhani ceased her assault on the broken battle droids next, and lastly Pol finished killing the dead droids looking a little awkward. She grinned foolishly; the droids lay in a smoking and sparking ruin. A tach tumbled past with its baby flung across its back clinging cutely as it cavorted. Someone coughed. An insect buzzed. A lightsaber whirred in the quiet. "Thank you, Jolee." Pol said, dousing her blade.

"This looks like the Star Map on Dantooine." Canderous said, pointing to a bud-like metal construct. Pol gave it a tap and it unfolded, revealing an incomplete map of their system. She copied the coordinates into her data pad while Juhani contacted Bastila.

**Ebon Hawk Several Hours Later **

"Juhani contacted me again; they have found the Star Map."

"So that's it, we can go now?" Mission asked.

"Not quite, Pol has business in the village; she is planning to oust the Czerka slavers once they have reinstated the wookiee chieftain…Zaalbar's father."

"Zaalbar's the chieftain's son? We have to get out there and help them." Mission said.

"Mission, its best if we stay here we would most likely get caught in the crossfire if we headed out now." Bastila said. "Besides I need Carth ready to fly and you ready to shoot if anything interrupts my battle meditation."

"Bastila's right Mission, best thing we can do is stay put, and keep the engine running." Carth agreed.

"Well, I'm going up top for a better view." Mission said bouncing off the couch and heading to the gun turrets. Once she was out of earshot Carth turned to Bastila.

"So you haven't told her about Zaalbar being held prisoner?"

"Pol will sort it out." Bastila said as she prepared a place to begin her battle meditations. _This one is for the Wookiees_. She told herself.

"You had better hope she does or that's going to be the saddest Twi'lek in the galaxy up there." Carth shook his head. "I better go do a flight check and prep the Hawk just in case we have to leave in a hurry."

Bastila crossed her legs and placed her hands palm up on each knee forefingers and thumbs together in classic meditative pose. Outside the battle began.

**The Village **

Finding Freyyr had not been difficult, as the crafty old Wook had been stalking them since they left Jolee's hut. After his name was mentioned the twelfth time he had made himself known. Between Pol, Jolee, and Freyyr, they formulated a plan to free Zaalbar and reinstate Freyyr as chieftain. Executing it meant executing Chuundar, his inner circle, and 10 Czerka guards, the only one happy about that was Canderous. When he was questioned about it he said "What?" gruffly and reloaded his power cells.

…

Blood bath over, Pol helped Zaalbar out of his chains.

(That's twice now.) He hooted.

"It's ok. According to the people round these parts, you have the makings of a fine leader once Freyyr is ready to pass the torch…" Pol suggested amiably.

(He is a long way from that yet Pol and I owe you my life debt.)

"Is there any way I can release you from it? I mean without bringing shame on your family or dishonoring your name because, even though I love your company and Mission's I would really like you to be free Zaalbar."

(You lead, I will follow. When the time comes and you feel I have completed my debt to you, I will return to my village and take on a new role in its government. I hope that time isn't too soon, I am actually getting used he the food on the Ebon Hawk.)

"Not ready to settle down just yet?" Pol whispered looking to Zaalbar's father who was leading a bushel of female Wookiees to meet his favored son.

(You know me better than you think Pol,) Zaalbar woofled in amusement.

"We got company." Canderous said. The noise of the fight had attracted a Czerka patrol and they had notified the main post of the political coup.

With a roar Freyyr rounded up his forces, and the Wookiees, mostly armed with bow casters, fended off the oncoming Czerka guard. The Jedi surged ahead, clearing a path to the Czerka post. Zaalbar and Canderous lead the charge on the Czerka post, Zaalbar wielding the mighty sword of Bacca. Jolee hung back, biding his time occasionally weaving devastating threads of the Force onto their foes, but more often healing the fallen Wookiees. Juhani and Pol danced about each other, lightsabers working continuously to quell the opposition, and even out the odds. With the near miraculous aid of Bastila's battle meditation the post was soon claimed.

Juhani and Pol met in a huddle while they waited for the rest of their crew to catch up. Both being Jedi Guardians and spectacular Force-jumpers, they had gotten quite some distance ahead and they compared kill counts like ballgame scores "Well that was fun. I got 43 all together." Pol said with a sweaty grin. "But I got hit. How did you do?"

"40 straight, do you require healing Pol?" Juhani looked at Pol's seat; she had taken a stray shot from a bowcaster; a classic case of wrong place wrong time. Juhani had taken one herself to the back, but Jolee had seen it happen and healed it on sight.

"Yes, please. I'm such a klutz. Don't tell Canderous." _Oh man Carth will hate me even more now I've trashed his pants. And the Chief will tease me about this butt shot for weeks. _

"Don't tell me what?" Canderous and Zaalbar caught up at last.

_His hearing is better than I thought._ "Hi Chief, hi Zaalbar, where's Jolee?" Pol asked, trying to distract Canderous and change the subject. Juhani tried to lay her hand inconspicuously on Pol's butt while she healed the wound. She wasn't devious enough. Canderous noticed immediately.

_Why is she touching Pol?_ "You got hit." He said frowning.

"What makes you say that?" Pol asked with a flamboyant gesture. _Oh the shame. This is not my day._

"Well either you got hit or you and Juhani are more than friends. So which is it?" He asked dryly. Juhani looked a little anxious; their encounter the day before had not left her mind.

Sensing the discord, Pol owned up. "I got hit in the ass." She hung her head in shame. "I somersaulted over some Wookiees to take out an automated gun turret and got hit by a stray shot. Juhani healed me just now." Pol could feel the pull of the freshly knitted flesh; luckily it had only been a scrape. She shifted her weight to redistribute the pressure and relieve the pain.

Canderous nodded. Zaalbar laughed.

"Wait, aren't you going to give me hell about that?" Pol asked.

"No. I have plenty of ammunition without calling you up on that one. Juhani, you can take your hand off Pol's ass now." Canderous's eyes twinkled, hinting at wry but unvoiced laughter.

**The Hawk **

"It's over, Carth. You can power everything down, the battle is won. They are on their way back to the ship. Mission could you lay out some fresh clothing and towels for our champions? I'm going to make some caffa. And Carth, set up a bunk for Jolee, in the portside dorm, he will be joining us on our travels." Bastila smiled triumphantly. Of all the feelings she was getting from Pol, the desire to bathe and change rang out loudest.

"Ok." Carth said. "So Big Z is alright?"

"Of course he is." Bastila called from over one delicate shoulder.

"Why wouldn't he be ok Carth?" Mission asked.

"Well there WAS a battle just now Mission." Carth replied, leaving out Zaalbar's imprisonment. _I'm as bad as they are. But Bastila is right; Mission needs more bad news like she needs spare lekku. _

"Ok I'm a go pick out some stuff for Pol and Juhani." Mission smiled for the first time in a day and went about her preparations.

………

"And we are invited?" Pol asked, pointing to her non Wookiee comrades.

(Yes, you would do us great honor to attend, there will be feasting and dancing.) Freyyr growled out his invitation, leaving little room for refusal.

"Sounds wonderful but we are leaving soon…" Pol said.

"Well, not too soon, you aren't going anywhere without me missy, and I still need to pack my things!" Jolee said.

"Ok, well, I guess we could stick around for a few hours. I'll just let the others know."

(Ask them to join us.)

"Thank you, Freyyr. I will extend the invitation." Pol contacted Bastila and the crew to invite them to the evening's celebrations. It was agreed that after a clean up, they would all go to the Rwookrrorro village for the freedom festivities. Jolee returned to his hermitage with Juhani to collect his things.

Pol limped back to the Hawk, following Zaalbar and dragging the cuffs of Carth's trashed trousers.

"They have a rip where that blaster bolt hit you." Canderous observed.

"How angry do you think he will be?" she asked, nausea welling in her gut.

"I got your back, Champ." Canderous took her hand in his as they paced the last three hundred meters to the Hawk, Pol loping strangely all the way.

………

"Zaalbar! I am so sorry for going rakghoul on you at the store. I missed you so much. When does the party start? Can I meet your brother, the one you were staying with?" Mission flew into Zaalbar's hirsute grip. He hugged her gently.

(If you will listen I will explain.) He said. Mission gasped and nodded eager to hear the full tale.

"Pol, Canderous welcome back." Bastila greeted them fondly. "You will be glad to know the refresher is free; and there are new clothes for you in the dorm Pol."

"Thank you Bastila, especially for your help during the battle. There were no Wookiee losses thanks to you. Jolee and Juhani are fetching gear from his shack. They will meet us at the celebrations. How is Carth?" Pol's concern and guilt overwhelmed Bastila.

"I'm ok." Carth answered stepping into the common room. He looked gaunt, freshly washed, but haggard. "How are you, Revan?" There was a cruelty to his voice, but it was shredded by the hurt he felt and salted with diminished trust.

Pol gulped, Canderous released her hand and cracked his knuckles behind his back_. Just try it punk._ "Her name is Pol; you'd do well to remember that Republic." _Never thought I would say that. _

"I trashed your trousers and your galaxy and all I can think to say is: '_Sorry_'" Pol said sadly. "I better go get cleaned up." Pol left the common room restraining her tears till she reached the refresher.

**Angst **

Not for the first time Canderous wished the Ebon Hawk had more than one refresher. He gave himself a sniff and ran his hand over his chin. _I really need a clean up. First mod I would make, two refreshers, after the addition of a decent bedroom._ He examined the garage and the bunkrooms for 'nasty surprises', just incase Carth had taken the news worse than he let on. Finding nothing, he conducted some other investigations. He checked the navicomputer for changes, the food stores for contamination, and Pol's gear for tampering. _All clear hmm, time to go pay my debt to little Blue. _

"Blue, you got a moment?" Canderous said as he reached the common room.

"You got those credits you owe me?"

"No, but I did a little Czerka looting and stole you this." He handed her the personal holodisc player he had taken from the defunct Czerka store. Mission's face lit up.

"Aw, thanks C-note. You're debt free now, but the name still sticks! Thanks for helping Zaalbar's family." _Awesome, this is worth 300 credits. Woot! I have to get Canderous to play Pazaak with me again! _

"He did tell you I _killed_ his brother, didn't he?" Canderous grinned evilly.

"Yeah, but he also said _why_, so you can drop the callous killer act. You might be baddass, old man, but you aint bad. Is Pol ok? I didn't get to talk to her when she came in I wanted to thank her too."

"She is fine."

"I know she was Revan. It was a shock cuz she's so nice and all, but I guess Big Z is right: she is Pol now, and he owes his debt to who she is, not who she was" Mission looked at Canderous, he seemed ancient to her. Tired and worried. His eyes flicked to Carth frequently, keeping a watch on the pilot. He was also watching the hallway to the refresher, waiting for the change in lighting that would signal Pol's presence.

"You're a good kid, Blue." Canderous said at last. He stood when he saw Pol tripping down the hallway, clutching a towel for modesty. He followed her to the girls' bunkroom.

"You decent?" He asked, sealing the door behind them.

"Bastila will have a fit if she catches you in here." Pol said, holding the towel closely to her form.

"If you're shy, I'll turn my back." _And watch your reflection in the door. _

"Oh Canderous, just go! _Usenye,_ can't you tell I am upset?" Pol was still feeling teary. There was something about crying in the refresher…It never seemed to satisfy.

"Actually, I can, and that's why I am here. Things aren't as bad as you imagine. Juhani and Bastila still have a use for you, Jolee only smells funny cuz he's old; Zaalbar and Mission think you are a hero… So Carth's being a Bantha's ass. He is Republic so that's nothing new and it's nothing we can't handle. If he was going to try anything, he would have done it by now." Canderous looked over his shoulder at Pol.

"Which is Canderous-speak for 'I already threatened him, and checked the hold for timed explosives and proximity mines.' Right?" Pol slipped into her new pants, then unfolded a shirt. "Hey you said you would turn your back!" Pol accused with a weary laugh.

"I have turned my back, just not my head," He excused. "Before I go, did I cheer you up at all? I would have …You know-" He made an enveloping gesture with his arms. "But I'm filthy, and you're all clean."

Pol smiled broadly, he hated the word 'hug'. _It's such a simple word and he is such a baby about it. He also gives great hugs, oh how he would hate that to get out_… "Ok, now you have cheered me up. Thanks Chief."

Canderous Ordo bowed derisively and left the room.

**Here's to Freedom! **

Carth caught Pol's arm as she left the Hawk for the celebrations. "Wait, Pol." Canderous glared at him. _Well I won't be fool enough to ask him to leave_ Carth thought; he had seen enough in the ruins on Dantooine to have learned that little lesson even second hand.

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you. This must be a shock for you as well. I can't pretend to understand, but I respect the efforts you are taking to fix things. And I really don't care about my pants."

Canderous spoke up. "That's just as well, cuz Pol took a blaster bolt to the ass and they're kinda holey now."

"Oh no, that's not good," Carth gave a weary laugh. "Pol, sorry I called you… that other name."

"It's ok. I'm sorry I betrayed your trust. I wish we could have told you sooner." Pol said.

"I know it wasn't all intentional. And what are the feelings of one Republic pilot when the war is at stake?" Carth laughed emptily and let go of Pol's arm.

"Like a black hole…It still sucks any ways you look at it. I'll try not to frack things up Carth." She said.

"I believe you Pol. That was all I wanted to say." His brown eyes shone with sincerity and fatigue.

Pol gave Carth a weak smile. "Thanks. That means a lot to me."

Canderous fetched Pol's hand and held it in his reassuringly. "You two done? Cuz I want to find out what Wookiees drink."

"Let me guess, big guy, you want to find something that will actually get you drunk faster than your implant can detoxify it?" Carth said.

"Well I figure Wookiees are big… High constitutions… There's a good chance that they brew some knockout grog. I haven't been drunk in years." The three soldiers ambled along the treetop walkway towards the village. Canderous bought Pol's hand to his mouth when Carth wasn't looking; he brushed it with his lips. "See Champ? Things aren't so bad."

"Yeah, I see, but what's with telling Carth about the butt shot? I thought you had enough ammunition?"

"I was bluffing."

**Party on Kashyyyk **

Carth turned to the Jedi sheepishly. "Bastila, are you likely to need me to fly in the next 24?"

"Probably not," She answered truthfully. The likelihood of them getting away from the raucous celebrations before the official end of the night was looking slim. After being patted in the head for the umpteenth time, Bastila had decided to hide from grateful Wookiee paws behind Carth.

"You wanna drink, Republic?" Canderous offered. He was sculling the wine like water and had just downed his fourth tankard.

"If it's ok with the boss," Carth said, looking to the Jedi.

Pol knew he meant Bastila, but she replied anyways, "Oh, go on, have one, you've more than earned it, flyboy. Besides, Bastila and I both fly and we're not drinking." Bastila nodded, relieved that Pol wouldn't be drinking.

"Then I accept, thanks Canderous." Carth said civilly. As it happened, Canderous was correct about the potency of Wookiee drink. Not having any cybernetic enhancements to fall back on, it hit Carth harder than… A thing that hits very hard. "Whoa, that's strong! How can you drink it like that?" He asked, choking on the fumes of the fermented swill.

"I have to, if I want to get any affect." Canderous said downing another. He had attracted a group of juvenile Wookiee males, and they were placing bets on how long the Mandalorian would remain standing. "It won't last long though, if I don't keep drinking. The implant cleans it up too quickly." He slammed down another cup and was handed a fresh tankard by one of his backers.

(Why isn't he falling down?) A shaggy grey lout asked.

(I don't know, Gwooorah.) Groaned Hurrir (He just keeps drinking. Indiharrr is taking bets, but save your credits. I think it may be some Jedi trick.)

(I fought alongside him in the strike. He is a Mandalorian, not a Jedi. 20 credits says he will fall after the next drink.) Woofled Indiharrr, as he slapped Canderous on the back for encouragement.

(He is still talking; I bet 50 he can drink 3 more before he falls over. Quick get him another!) Another ruffian growled excitedly.

Jolee laughed at the exchange. "That's a shame, there are some times when it is just better to drink and not think." Jolee said sagaciously. Carth nodded and gave the tankard his best hit, while the crowd of Wookiee adolescents cheered him on. They had found a new human to wager on.

Pol cackled. Clearly these younglings didn't understand a lot of basic. She considered translating, but thought better of it when Carth set to pickling his liver. She placed her own bet, "100 credits says he has to be carried back to the Hawk after three."

"So you can't get drunk?" Carth asked, his head buzzing happily with the fruity fermentation.

"No, not on the usual sluice juice. High ranking warriors need to be alert at all times; we don't usually drink at all." Canderous explained.

"But you are a 'lert' Chief, I already told you that." Pol snickered.

"Ha-ha, and Pol is the sweet faced, homeless helping, tach cuddling scourge of the galaxy." He sneered.

"Oh, that must be why 'no one is ever pleased to see me'." Pol jibed.

"I was this morning." Canderous drawled in sleazy Mandalorian vernacular. _Hmm… I'm definitely getting a kick out of this fortified junk. I wonder if they'll sell me some._

Tired of the testosterone, and not terribly impressed by Canderous's boozy flirting, Pol slipped off the bear sized chair and went to find the rest of 'team floozy.' "I'm off to gather the girls. Jolee let me know if I win or lose anything."

"Okie dokie, Pol," Jolee agreed, and then went to seek out the Wookiee with his own ante, of 40 credits in hand.

…

As Bastila reeled after another gravity-defying Wookiee hug, she was glad to see Pol coming towards her. _Oh good, she can translate and maybe ask them to stop man… err woman… err Wookiee-handling me_.

"Hey Bastila, I see you've made some friends?" Pol pointed to the wookiee women surrounding the diminutive Jedi.

"Yes, it would seem so. I have no idea what they are saying, or if they understand me; but they seem friendly. What are those bloody stupid males doing now? Still grogging their brain cells into oblivion?"

"Yup still at it." Pol tuned into the Wookiee women's discussion.

(Zaalbar's little Twi'lek child is a treasure, her name is Mission.) One said with a clucky croon. It seemed Zaalbar had upped his appeal as a mate by compassionately adopting out of his species. The general consensus was that Zaalbar was a big sweetie and a damn good catch. They were discussing Bastila now, and Pol listened keenly.

(She is so hairless! How will she ever keep her babies warm?) A mature female worried aloud as she took in Bastila's clothing with an analytical eye. Pol giggled, she sat on one hand, holding her tender cheek as she laughed. _Bastila with babies!_

(I like the little Jedi best of all. I shall call her _Wenhrrii-tot_, because she is so little and fierce, and she is cranky to her men.) The young Wookiee female laughed and patted Bastila again. Unlike the males, they had a caring touch with their hands and were conscientious about not upsetting Bastila's 'head fur'.

Pol lost it and guffawed riotously. "They understand you a bit." Pol said with a laugh. "They think you're cute and cranky. Hee hee!"

"Oh dear. Pol, have you been drinking that awful stuff too?"

"Nope, you would know if I had, Bastie. I'm just happy." _And that's too funny! Wenhrrii-tot! I HAVE to tell Zaalbar that one. _

"Hello, ladies." Juhani greeted, she and Mission had been talking to Freyyr and the elder mothers of the tribe. Mission had wanted to find out who the most likely match for Big-Z was when he returned from his travels. It had turned out to be a slightly built, but robust female called Hwirrolyn.

"Awesome, the whole of team floozy is here." Pol grinned. _Ahh… good company, great music, a lull in the battle, a cheap laugh at Bastila's expense, and an aching leg from embarrassing wound, who could ask for more? _

"Mission is too young to be a floozy," Bastila stated ethically. Mission pouted.

"And you are too classy, and you're a Jedi!" Pol argued. Bastila fought the smile that threatened to crack her stern façade.

"Bastila is in training, and Mission can be our mascot." Juhani laughed.

Mission brightened. "Thanks Ju, hey any chance I could have a lightsaber too? Hey, I'm just kidding Bastila." She giggled and took off to dance with Zaalbar.


	16. Chapter 16

**What Do We Do With A Drunken Pilot? **

Twenty eight drinks later, Canderous gave up on his attempt to get sloshed, but not before he beat Chuundar's record of eighteen. He found Pol enmeshed in talks with the women folk and her Jedi. Not wanting to intrude on women's business, he signaled to her from afar and left the party. Pol timed her exit from the conversation and vanished into the crowd.

Bastila parted from the women's group. Mission and Juhani didn't translate as well as Pol did and she had grown tired of being fussed over. _Just fabulous I might have a face like a pie, but the Wookiees think I am adorable. Oh no! Maybe I smell too_! Carth was still standing and speaking by the time he found Bastila. She shrank a little at his approach, as much time as she had for the Republic pilot, drunken men generally got her dander up.

"Hi Bastila, how's the Wookiees' favorite teeny tiny china doll?" Carth staggered a little. He had proven himself to be a manly enough human for the male Wookiees by drinking almost as much as they did. This meant Jolee was permitted to translate some of the cheekier dialogue.

"Hello Carth, you are drunk," she accused, then added peevishly, "And I am not 'teeny tiny'."

"Yeah gorgeous hic I know I'm drunk, but you are little, not in a bad way or anything; you're pleasingly petite. Aw, don't look like that; good things come in small packages." He slurred a little and tipped his glass in a toast.

"You are going to spill your drink, Onasi. And if you persist in calling me gorgeous, I will show you what really comes in small packages." Bastila threatened a little and leaned away from the unsteady drinker. _At least he has his shirt on._

"It's just as well, beautiful; I've already had way too much." He put his cup down on the walkway.

_Oh dear… patience, Padawan Shan._ "Carth, is there something you wanted?"

"Yeah, I uh, wanted to apologize for overreacting. You girls aren't bad, look at what you did here. This is a good thing!" He swept his arm wide to encompass the vista, almost clotheslining Bastila. She ducked neatly out of the path of the drunken limb.

"Well, thank you for noticing. Apology accepted, and I am sorry for not telling you."

"Sheesh, that's ok hic. Hey Bastie, how 'bout a dance?" Carth smiled dopily. His eyes, dilated from the darkness and the booze, looked soft, but blacker than onyx. He held out his arms and Bastila side-stepped them. "Well, I guess that's a no." He chortled. "Ya know gorgeous, I'm actually not that bad a dancer."

"Carth, when you speak can you actually hear the words that come out of your mouth, or is there just an all Bith band playing a drunken waltz?" Bastila patronized.

"The latter," Carth admitted, with a grin.

"If I dance with you, will you shut up?"

Carth held his right hand to his breast and tried to look sober. "You have my word as a soldier of the Republic."

"Well, since I can't hear the drunken music in your head, I suppose you will have to lead then." Against her best judgment, Bastila accepted the dance and waltzed with the drunken pilot.

**Swoop Garage / Cargo Hold **

Sprawled across two mattresses on the garage floor, Canderous opened one eye lazily, and spoke aloud. "If you thought you could sneak your ass in here and take my knife from me while I'm inebriated, you were wrong. Put the boots down, Pol. I see you."

"But I GOT the knife!" Pol stamped a foot childishly and the stealth field failed, revealing her petulance.

"The idea is that you disarm me while I am wearing the knife, like a professional. Not that you go through my things like some paltry thief. Hell, even Republic could manage that." He sat up. "And put the knife back, I won't have weapons in our bed."

"I thought you would have been all for that. Scared of what I might do?" Pol teased, replacing the knife.

"No. Having a weapon in or under your bed is dumb. It's like saying to any would-be attacker, 'Here kill me with this!'"

"So, what if they bring their own weapon to come spike ya?" Pol asked.

"Turn it back on him as soon as you get the chance. This lesson is over." He answered succinctly.

"Ok. So how drunk are you?" Pol asked.

"Barely drunk at all, and its fading fast," Canderous complained. "How's your injury?"

"Fine now, and almost completely pain free…Wanna fool around?" Pol flopped to the bed beside Canderous.

"The Ebon Hawk's swoop garage is not the most romantic place for this." He said, looking down at Pol. "You wanna go fight in the cargo hold instead?" He asked.

"You want to fight? You don't want to… uh…" Pol asked looking worried. _Is it me or does he know? _

"Of course I want to, but I would like it to be more memorable… And not in the hasty cargo hold kind of way either,"

_It will be memorable for me_. "Ok, fine. Let's fight." Pol said. She jumped up, hauled her love to his feet, and they marched down to the cargo hold.

Canderous bragged outrageously as they walked. "How about we make this more interesting, since we both know who will win…"

"A wager?" Pol asked.

"Mmm hmm. Speaking of which, you owe some Wookiees 100 credits. Since you're already out of pocket, I will be fair on you. We won't spar for credits."

"Ok Chief, name your terms." Pol said as she moved a stack of crates to the extremities of the room.

"When I win, I get one hour of your time, in which you have to do everything I ask of you." Canderous smiled a dark challenge. Indicating a heavy crate he said, "Leave that to me."

"When you win? Pfft! I defeated Mandalore!" Pol trilled, "Why do you only want one hour?"

"I did say '_everything I ask'_ Pol, so if I were you, I would be grateful it is only one hour, and you have yet to defeat me, so drop the attitude."

"Ok. If I win, you devote one hour to meeting my every whim, effective the second the fight is over." Pol countered.

"And what might they be?" Oh, this sounds good.

"Not telling. Lose and you'll find out." You're going to fix my swoop bike!

"Have it your way, but I am not throwing the fight just to find out. So we have an accord." Canderous spat into the palm of his hand. Pol copied the motion and they shook.

Pol waited for Canderous to make the first move. He swung out at her and she dodged the punch, landing one of her own on his forearm. _Wow that was a clumsy shot_ she chided herself. Canderous caught her arm as she tried to pull away and twisted it cruelly. Pol threw up her leg to kick her way free of the hold, brought it crashing down on his shoulder, and regretted it immediately. _Ugh! What was I thinking?_ He unbalanced her easily, and she hit the cargo hold floor with a thud. She lay there a second, waiting. Canderous stood over her, a frown on his face.

"What's wrong with you today? You sure you're up to this?" He taunted. "Yeah? Well then get up. You're not done yet, Champ. Best of three," Canderous stretched out an arm lazily and grabbed Pol's belt buckle. With a smooth jerk, he pulled her to her feet. They faced off again. Canderous grinned in spite of himself. _That's one to me._

Pol swung her leg out low, trying to knock the feet from under him. Canderous jumped over her leg, grabbed her under the arms, and flipped her over his back. Pol got personal with a Plasteel container. When she landed, she looked about and realized she was out of bounds. _I have to find his weakness. _

"That's two to me rag doll." Canderous laughed. Pol made as if to charge him, Canderous dodged the feint and took a king hit to the side of his skull. He swung to return the hit, but overreached himself when Pol ducked away. He took a chance and it paid off: he managed to catch Pol's belt again, pulling her closer. Pol leaned back as far as she could, digging her heels into the corrugations of the cargo hold's flooring to buy some time. With swift fingers, she released the clasp on her belt buckle and the belt came away in Canderous's hands and she spun out of range. With a Force leap and a swift kick to the chest, she knocked him to the ground. _Yay me!_

"And one to me!" smiled Pol. They took their places again.

"You're getting better."

"I kinda cheated." Pol admitted as she circled Canderous.

"That's not nice, Pol. If you can cheat, I can cheat too."

"Pfft, whatever. I'm still gonna beat your ass!" Pol boasted, shadowboxing like a fool.

"Oh, really?" Canderous lowered his fists; grabbed the waist band of Pol's trousers, and dropped her pants. Pol froze. _Eeeep._ Canderous grabbed her legs and threw her over his shoulder and into a stack of empty crates. Pol landed awkwardly with her trousers around her ankles.

"Nice panties. How come you never wear those to bed?"

"They're new, blame Mission." _Crazy teen Twi'lek taste…I look like a Nal Hutta joy_ _girl_. Pol stood up and redressed herself coyly while Canderous stared.

_Oh, bless you, Blue_. "My hour starts now. Come sit by me." Canderous corrected a crate and took a seat. Pol sat beside him obediently. "There are some things I've been dying to know, and so for the next hour, you have to answer my questions, truthfully."

"Ok. Ask them."

"First of all, rub my back. That blow to the shoulder caned like hell." Pol stood up again, Canderous removed his shirt and folded it on the crate she had vacated. Pol massaged his aching shoulders tenderly.

"Were you 'involved' with Malak?" He asked.

"No, I wasn't involved with Malak, not that way." Pol continued her work weaving the slightest bit of Force into her touch, so that she could heal him without suspicion. Pol eyed the shirt. That he had folded it so precisely came as no surprise, given the discipline of the military code he had been raised with.

"Pol, have you been involved with anyone?" He asked.

_Pants down? Damn you Canderous, I really didn't see that coming._ "Next question!" Pol laughed and blushed. "It's a sad case of too young, then too Jedi, then too Sith, in that order. And then I fell for this rogue Mandalorian with a latent paladin complex…" Pol teased.

"Paladin what… Are you _drunk_? Pol, I'm a sleazy old dirt bag with dishonorable intentions. What did you think you were going to do with me if you won our wager?"

"I was going to get you to fix the accelerator cable on my swoop bike so I can race again. I hear the circuit on Tatooine is to die for." Pol admitted.

"Probably in more ways than one, is that all you had in mind, Champ?"

"No, I was going to make you polish my boots with your shirt; I like the idea of you half naked at my feet." Pol kneaded Canderous's neck brusquely, and he sighed shamelessly, enjoying her ministrations.

"Hmm, that would have been… tolerable. So Pol are you…?"

"Am I what?"

"Have you ever…"

"Ha! You're asking me THAT? Oh, that's so funny, and you're so sweet. Ha-ha." Pol giggled nervously and reddened. _Thank the Force he can't see my face._ "Why did you ask me that?"

"Because like I said, I am a sleazy old dirt bag with dishonorable intentions, and I like to know these things."

"Well, what do you think, Chief? Am I, or aren't I?" Pol taunted.

"I'd say you are." Canderous craned his neck, trying to see Pol's reaction. Pol caught him at it, and grabbed his chin and the back of his head; she righted it roughly, cracking his neck and spoiling his view. "Ahh, that's better. Pol, you ever consider a career as a chiropractor? This is a real gift you have."

"No, I haven't considered a career in chiropractics. What makes you think I am a…?" Pol stressed over her lack of experience.

"Your naivety," _And the fact that you can't even say it without blushing._

"I'm not naïve." Pol continued the massage, getting a little rough in her agitation.

Canderous groaned appreciatively. "You're naive if you think I'm sweet. Ahh… that's the spot, right there, girl your hands are gold!"

"Well, Sir The-Ebon-Hawk-isn't-romantic-enough-for-this-paladin-knight-Ordo, if you must know, I have not been 'deflowered'" Pol admitted.

"I knew it." _Damn! Damn! Damn!_

"Pfft. I was too busy conquering to fool around. It's not an easy life for a woman, you know! I had to wear a mask and those god-awful robes and platform boots to get the respect I deserved. And that's not to mention all the killing. You try being five foot three and having a face like a pissed off fairy for a day and see how much fear and respect you instill, tough guy!"

Canderous grinned. "Poor Pol…" _Hey, she does look like a pissed off fairy…_

Pol stopped massaging. She stood behind him with her hands on her hips. Her volume increased as she made her complaint. "Yeah, poor Pol is right! I finally drop the hokey _Jedi_ religion and all the _Sith_ conquering business, and in my _noble_ fight to repair the galaxy do I finally get some? Noooo! But you can bet if I was a _male_, I would be getting some action! Instead of the _hero treatment_ I so rightly deserve, I get lumped with the one _Mando'ad_ in creation who's too bloody _well-mannered_ for a quick roll in the cargo hold!"

Before Pol could finish her angry diatribe, Canderous roared. "Oh, that is IT!" He twisted and seized Pol by her hips. When she tried to resist, he overcame her, pulling her roughly into his lap. "You just have no idea who you're fooling with, do you?" He reprimanded her huffily.

Pol laughed in his face. "No, and I don't care." She answered, kissing him before he could hazard a response. Pol's happy internal dialogue sang words like_: Hooray! _And_, At last! _

Unfortunately for Pol, Canderous was the victim of his own internal dialogue as they kissed.

_Oh Pol…. Few more couldn't hurt…She's so fine… Maybe the cargo hold isn't so bad…Damnit Ordo, stop this now! …But she's so…Breathtaking … Ordo show some restraint! Bah She's a warrior. She defeated Mandalore. I can't go through with it. You're too good for this, Pol. Not here, not this way._

Canderous gently eased her away with a few well placed kisses. "No Pol, I can't. You will always be Revan to me. You are divine, and you should be treated with respect," he said duskily when they came up for air.

Her eyes were a mix of relief, pleasure, disappointment and confusion as they searched his for answers. "After all that 'I'll show you what a dirt bag I am' bravado, you're putting me up on a pedestal?"

"For now," Canderous explained. _And damn you girl, for teaching me a moral code worthy of my notice_. "It'll make taking you down more enjoyable for us both later." Canderous tried to sleaze the last line out; giving it his best measure of impropriety, but Pol wasn't buying it. She stated her opinion wordlessly, kissing him on the tip of his nose. She smiled; her eyes said a gorgeous 'thank you', and she left the room.

**To Tatooine**

Carth awoke with a blazing headache, and was greeted by Jolee Bindo. "What happened?" He asked. The pilot felt like he had been hit by a truck load of bantha poodoo.

Jolee chuckled. "We had to carry you back to the Hawk, and you sang the entire way! It was very entertaining, but now it is time for you to fly. You up to it, kid?"

"Ugh… I suppose." Carth dressed and headed to the cockpit.

Bastila was there with caffa. _Well this is a pleasant surprise._ She handed him the non-spill cup and left without a word. _Oh well, guess I'm not that good a dancer_. The pilot ground out the drilling hangover with willpower and discipline, then set a course for Tatooine. _Let's see how well I fly through trees with a hangover. Ugh, crazy Wookiee drink. _

He was joined by Pol and Canderous once they made the leap to hyperspace. Pol nudged Carth meaningfully. "You know it's fairly safe to say you can stop watching Bastie all the time now, our little secret is out." A wicked grin dominated her mouth. There was a hint of humor in the Mandalorian's eyes too.

"Huh? I wasn't watching her. I don't watch her." Carth sipped his caffa.

The Mandalorian spoke up. "Sure Carth, you only watch the space next to her a…" Pol clamped a hand over Canderous's mouth just in time.

"Ya know if you want her to notice you more, you could act on that, rather than just drunken dancing and ogling her from a distance." She suggested sweetly.

Carth gaped at the accusations, as well as Pol's advice. "I do not ogle her!"

Canderous escaped Pol's hand for a second. "Yes you do! Champ you saw - it wasn't even a distance! He was looking right at her t…" Pol's hand regained purchase and ceased Canderous's coarse tirade.

"Pol, you're a first-class idiot, and you, Canderous, ha, I'm not even going to say what I think there ha-ha." Carth dismissed them with a shake of his aching head.

Pol huffed in annoyance, and left the cockpit. _What a nerf-herder. Who is he trying to kid? _

When Pol was gone, Canderous whispered to Carth. "Making them mad usually works." He strolled off whistling. Carth shook his head again and tried to recall details of the celebrations on Kashyyyk. Nothing improper was forthcoming. _We just danced, it's not like I tried to kiss her or anything…did I? Nah…umm…_

**Tatooine**

Tatooine is an arid desert, bereft of water. Its native inhabitants are the Tuskan raiders, commonly called the Sand People and the Jawas, a small race of sentients. It had been colonized, mined, and then deserted again hundreds of times over. Businesses mining its ore rose and fell due to the substandard quality of the mineral. Czerka was one of the few corporations that had remained, and according to Lena, Griff had been working for them last.

Carth set them down in the Anchorhead spaceport, Pol and her crew left the Hawk. They split up; Jolee took the Jedi to the Cantina to ask about tourist attractions, Star Maps, and other points of interest. Carth and Zaalbar handled the docking procedure, registering the Hawk's mooring. Pol took Mission and Canderous to the Czerka office to track down Griff.

When Carth returned to the ship, he was met by a delivery man. "Hey buddy, I don't think that's ours." He said pointing to a crate labeled 'livestock'.

"This the Ebon Hawk?" The store man asked as he wheeled the crate towards the loading ramp.

"Yeah," Carth confirmed.

"Well then, this is your problem now." The delivery man unloaded the box in the cargo hold amid protests from Zaalbar and Carth.

"Wait, what's my problem?"

"Sign here, sir." The delivery man gave the letter of dispatch to Carth. "I am just following orders."

"No way. Whatever that is, you had best send it back because it is not ours. We didn't order anything." Carth insisted.

"It's paid for, sir. And as you can see here on the notice, my instructions are perfectly clear, though we were expecting you two weeks ago."

Carth examined the paperwork incredulously, "Two gizka?"

"Yes, sir," said the delivery man jadedly, "Though it has been two weeks, so there will probably be more than that by now."

(This is bad.) Zaalbar groaned.

"Yeah Z, but I guess we don't have a choice." Carth signed the paperwork and the delivery man left.

(Don't open the box Carth). Zaalbar warned.

"What's that Zaalbar?" Carth asked as he noisily pried opened the crate with a crowbar. Sixteen gizka bounded out. Three of the gigantic toad like creatures were dead at the bottom of the box. "Uh oh," Carth looked at the gizka guiltily as they bounded about the Ebon Hawk.

Zaalbar knocked Carth in the back of the skull lightly with his paw, (You idiot.)

**Cantina**

Bastila lead the dusty trio into Anchorhead's cantina. After several fruitless conversations with drunken Czerka employees that resulted in the liberal application of Force slaps, Jolee took over the role of lead investigator. He spotted a hunter, and settled in for a quiet ale and a conversation.

"Your best bet is the Tuskan raiders; they know more of this land than I. In my travels I have not discovered anything such as that which you seek." Komad Fortuna drank the ale Jolee had bought him. "They are dissatisfied with the colonization, though, and attack on sight."

"Perhaps if someone talked to them?" Juhani asked. Bastila smiled approvingly at the Cathar.

"A quandary, they do not speak basic and I have met no sentient as could speak their language. If I had the money, I would purchase a droid, for I would like very much to ask them of the Krayt dragons." The gold Twi'lek sighed.

"There are droids that can interpret Basic to the Sand People?" Jolee asked.

"Yuka Laka has one in his store, but he asks a fortune for it." Komad explained.

As they left the cantina, the Jedi discussed how to buy the droid. "Young Mission drives a hard bargain, we should ask her to come with us." Juhani suggested.

Jolee agreed. "And if it comes to it, we could ask her for a loan, since she now has all my credits, too, the scallywag!"

"She is with Pol seeking news of her brother; it would be kinder to let her have this time." Bastila stated. "As it so happens, I drive a pretty hard bargain myself." She sniffed imperiously.

"This droid, even at a reduced price, could cost us all of our credits," Juhani said. Truly, they didn't have much to spare.

"That is why once we are done with it, we sell it back." Bastila explained shrewdly.

Jolee grinned. "Off we go, then!"


	17. Chapter 17

**The Anchorhead bureau of Czerka Corporation**

"Stop kicking the dust, Blue." Canderous chided as they approached the Czerka office. A dry and windy place, the sand of Tatooine lifted, cycling into tiny tornados. It slapped at their legs as they made their progress through the unpaved town. Mission jumped and landed in the center of a mini whirlwind, disrupting its path and spraying the three of them with hot sand.

"Damnit kid, would you quit that!" Canderous roared angrily.

"Knock it off, both of you." Pol ordered.

"Ah poot, I got sand in my shoes now." Mission complained.

"Serves you right," The Mandalorian barked. His mood left a lot to be desired, and Mission was looking for a distraction, so she couldn't help but niggle maliciously.

"So C-note, are you going to follow Pol everywhere? You look like a big mean old droolin' Mandalorian guard dog." Mission ragged him. Between her anxiety over her brother and Canderous's foul humor, due to an exceptionally bad nights sleep, the typically tolerant two had gotten quite antsy. Pol contemplated a means to end the fight before it began.

"You got a Wookiee." Canderous pointed out, shaking sand from his shirt.

"Yeah, but I'm not a saber-wielding maniac like Pol; and she has Big Z's protection too."

"Ah, but the Mandalorian smells better." Pol snickered.

Canderous shot her a look. "Gee thanks Polly, anything else you would like to share?"

Mission's face screwed up in distaste. "Oh, please don't!"

"Well, desist your sand spraying or I might decide to…share." Pol threatened, inanely hoping to lighten the mood.

Mission went white. "I'll stop! But I have to ask this: C-note, who do you think you are you protecting her from?" Mission kicked the sand in Canderous's direction playfully.

"Who you got?" He asked ominously as he kicked the swirling sand back to the Twi'lek. The majority of the dust skittered over to Pol, saturating her with its hot spray.

Pol whirled, frowning; apparently she had reached her daily sand requirement. "Ok children, next person to kick the sand flurries can unclog Zaalbar's hair from the fresher drain!" Her companions looked amply chastened by the time they entered the Czerka building.

"Hi, I am looking for one of your employees." Pol stated, leaning over the counter. The representative acknowledged her with a grim smile.

"One moment, what name?" The woman asked.

Mission piped in. "Griff Vao." She said with a restless look.

"I will just see what shift he is on. Oh dear, I am sorry, but Griff Vao is listed here as missing. He was part of the team taken by the Sand People last week." The woman delivered her declaration without an ounce of sensitivity. Mission's eyes broadened in alarm. Pol touched her shoulders soothingly and took over the questioning.

"Taken where?" Pol asked assertively.

"Over the Dune Sea, they have a commune there. There is a good chance he is alive, as they're inclined to take slaves." The woman said, looking suddenly interested.

"I need to speak with them about his release." Pol prompted. I am not about to give up on this.

"The Sand People are quite a menace, they don't welcome visitors and they attack on sight. I don't like your chances, but if you are willing to help Czerka be rid of this nuisance, I can be of assistance." The woman smiled tritely.

"What would you have me do?" Pol sighed resignedly.

"Kill them, of course. We pay handsomely for their gaffi sticks as proof of their termination. If you agree to do this, I will issue a permit for you to access the Dune Sea. Without that, you won't be allowed to leave the settlement." The woman leaned her chin on her hands and smiled callously.

Pol looked at Canderous, Canderous looked at Mission. Mission looked from one to the other, tears forming. Pol's eyes said 'I don't want to agree to this, but we can't let her down.'

Canderous read the look. "Are they challenging?" he asked the woman.

"Extremely," She said honestly.

Without hesitation, he agreed. "Ok, I'll do it." He said dispassionately.

Mission brightened. "Thanks C-note, you're the best!" She grabbed him around the middle and gave him a hug. Startled by the unsolicited embrace, Canderous threw his hands up in the air and away from Mission, careful not to touch the clinging Twi'lek. He wore an expression of denial and disgruntlement.

He looked to Pol for help, "What? Pol, stop her, she's clearly insane!" He said. Pol held back a laugh and covered her smile. Mission let go and wiped away a stray tear. Canderous looked away. _Crazy broads._

**Ebon Hawk**

"What in space are these gizka doing here?" Bastila demanded.

"Breeding ugh, they were delivered this morning in a crate," Carth said scuffing a gizka out of the way with the toe of his boot.

"Statement: Would you like me to blast the pesky organics, Owner?" HK-47, the new droid, was eager to prove his functionality. He had been this way since the Jedi had purchased him, to Juhani and Bastila's dismay. Jolee had remained suspiciously close mouthed since its purchase.

"No, HK," ordered Bastila.

"Disappointed declaration: I fear this will be a most unsatisfactory stint of employment, Owner."

"Carth, did you have to release them?" Bastila said, looking at the gizka distastefully.

(That's what I said.) Zaalbar groaned.

"Well, get them out of here. They can't stay." Bastila quivered with disgust. She pointed to the loading ramp for emphasis. The sleeve of her robe fell and quivered, exposing her agitation.

Jolee stepped in. "Whoa, slow down people, we can't just release them. Do you have any idea of the environmental impact? Not to mention the hefty fines we would be facing."

Canderous targeted and kicked a gizka as he trudged up the boarding ramp. He was followed by Mission, who extracted the booted beastie from the place where it landed. Mission scooped it up and gave it a cuddle. "Oo gizka! Look at you, ya cute lil' croaker!"

Pol came in last of all and dodged her way through the animals, careful not to tread on any. "What is with all the gizka?" Pol asked as she entered the common room. The recently purchased HK did a double take and exclaimed loudly.

"Relieved Exclamation: Master, you are alive!" The HK unit vocalized.

"Do you know this droid, Pol?" Juhani asked with an elegantly raised eyebrow. The crew gaped and the Gizka propagated.

"Know him? I built him. Or rather, Revan did." Pol circled the droid, looking it over. She looked sad, but judiciously so. "You're looking rough, HK-47." She criticized, giving him a rap on the chassis. Of all the things I remember…The fifteen long months I poured into this baby.

"Contemptible agreement: You are right Master! I have taken a quite a battering at the incompetent digits of Yuka Laka. Oh, how I would like to crush his neck. Optimistic Query: Would you like me to kill something for you now, Master?"

Pol closed her eyes. Canderous watched her intently, another piece of her past. "No, HK. Juhani, where did you get him?" Pol asked the Jedi.

"A droid store, apparently he is fluent in the Sand People's language." Bastila said as she looked at the red robot dubiously. Juhani and Jolee nodded in unison, trying to back her up.

"Yes, he is. You do realize this is an assassin droid? Oh HK, I am going to have to scrap you." Pol shook her head.

"Appeasement: Master, the core of my assassination protocol has been damaged. I can no longer provide that service. Query: Master, why would you scrap me have I not performed satisfactorily?"

"Because you are pure evil HK; a product of my poor judgment," Pol said despondently, _a product of my former alignment_.

"Proud Statement: Master, you are a pitiless and perceptive meatbag. I like you." In computer modulated tones the red droid drilled out the compliment that most sane individuals would have mistaken for an insult.

Pol looked skyward. Happiness to a droid was being useful. Like a working-dog in a small yard, Pol knew HK would be trouble if he wasn't kept busy. "HK, I am not the same Master that you once knew. I'm not even called Revan anymore."

"Observation: Master, you do seem greatly changed to me, but you are my maker and Master all the same. Imploring assertion: Please do not scrap me, Master. I still have ninety percent of my functionality. I am too new to deactivate!"

Pol felt sorry for her creation. She looked at her crew. They were all following the discourse with interest. _If I could just have FIVE minutes alone!_ "I still need some of your features, Tin Man. But if you so much as take aim without my 'say so' I swear I will violate your circuitry with a hand saw and set your shiny red ass to meet and greet mode!"

"Relieved Acknowledgement: Master, you are so cruel! I approve, I will even endeavor to meet your recently revised pacifistic standards."

Pol addressed the gizka problem, "So does anyone have any ideas about the gizka then?"

Canderous said, "Barbeque?" Pol saluted him and pointed to Mission, who was stroking one of the beasts. "A discreet poisoning, then," He amended grumpily for Pol's ears alone.

"I wash my hands of this." Bastila grimaced and flinched when one of the animals got close to her. Rather than touch them, Juhani and Pol had noticed she had been shooing them away with small Force-driven gusts of wind.

"I don't think we have a choice. Mish, could you herd them into the storage space? Lock it and try not tot let them out till we have a 'solution'. Carth, Canderous, I will need my swoop bike running to cover the cost of HK's purchase." Pol gave the orders and arranged a caffa side meeting in the galley for the Jedi. The share and compare session covered finding the Star Map, placating the Sand People and locating Griff. Juhani and Bastila were given the task of locating the Star Map whilst Pol and Jolee dealt with the Sand People, and hopefully recovered Griff.

**Meanwhile in the Swoop Garage**

Canderous put the finishing touches to the swoop bike, personally not trusting Republic to get it right. HK-47 had taken up a post in the doorway of the garage. While Canderous worked, HK held center stage. He fielded questions about his former Master from Carth and the Mandalorian while Mission single-handedly plunked the last gizka safely away.

"Has Pol changed that much, HK?" Carth asked with a suspicious look.

"Disillusioned response: Yes, sadly it would seem that the only wickedness that remains in the Master is her sense of humor."

"Revan had a sense of humor?" Carth looked appalled by the thought. "A Sith Lord's practical jokes…I think my spine just turned to ice."

Canderous prompted HK for further detail with a grunt as he hooked up the new accelerator cable. HK activated his vocabulator. "Proud statement: Master had a fancy for dirty ditties. Some were rather good, by meatbag standards."

Canderous and Mission cracked up.

"You don't remember any of her dirty ditties, do you?" Mission asked hopefully. Carth left the garage when HK began a full scale recital.

**Notice Me**

"Bastila, are you busy?" Carth ran a hand through his hair nervously. There was something about the woman, so capable and so valiant. She didn't need anyone to hold her. Bastila could hold her own. In that self-reliant and viciously independent way, she reminded Carth of his late wife.

Bastila frowned, "I am always busy Carth. What is this about?"

Carth steeled himself. _Ok Onasi, all systems go ready for anything. _"Well I… uh, I wanted to talk about the other night, on Kashyyyk."

"Carth, as I said, I am very busy, if you have an important matter to discuss with me, let me know." Bastila resumed her meditation coolly. Carth trounced out of the cargo hold. _Busy my ass. Look at her sitting there, on her spoilt royal rump; she's probably just thinking up fancy ways to tie her hair_. After a moment he remembered the Mandalorians suggestion, and went on a wookiee hunt.

"Zaalbar? I need to know where Bastila sleeps."

(Why, Carth?) Zaalbar set the makings of a sonic grenade aside carefully. It wasn't the kind of job you leave half done, but he rationalized that if Carth wanted him for something, it must be vital to the Jedi's and therefore Pol's mission.

"Well, I want to play a joke on her and I don't want to get the wrong bed. You can sniff it out, right?"

(Yes, I can.) But you will have to wait, I'm busy! Zaalbar growled in irritation resumed the completion of the grenade. Carth nodded awkwardly and watched him work. (If you're going to hover the whole time, you can help.)

Some time later, the conspirators snuck into the women's bunkroom unnoticed. Zaalbar hardly qualified as the galaxy's quietest Wookiee, but the rest of the crew were preoccupied. Assiduous preparations were being made for their search and rescue mission out into the deep Dune Sea.

Carth looked at the beds; two hadn't been slept in at all, so they were discounted right away. Zaalbar sniffed the pillows. (This is Mission, it smells like 'Hinkler's Yummy' Gum. This is Juhani's, it has sweet fur. This is Bastila's.) He prodded the bunk with a hairy paw and groaned softly. (What are you going to do? It is not my intent to upset Pol.)

"This won't upset Pol. In fact, I can promise you she'll love it. Ah… um, alright. It's something Canderous said about getting Bastila's attention. What have I sunk to, asking a Wookiee and a Mandalorian for advice?"

(You ask because both the Mandalorian and I have better prospects than you.) Zaalbar guffawed.

"Well, now there is an embarrassing truth. He said if I made her mad, she might notice me more… Do you still have those dead gizka?" The pilot asked sheepishly.

Zaalbar roared with laughter. (Carth, do not be a fool. Canderous said make her mad, not furious.)

"Ok… then can you help me pick out a lively one?" The pilot looked several decades younger than his actual age at that moment in time. He went from 36 to 6 in three seconds flat.

(I would love to.) Zaalbar let out a woofle of amusement.


	18. Chapter 18

**That Night**

"AAIIEEEEE! Oh god, what is that! Help! Oh FRACK, who put that in here? Get it out! Get it OUT! Mission save me! This not funny Mission Vao, not even slightly! Who put the gizka in my bed!" Bastila squealed loudly. Her uncharacteristic shrieking drew the entire crew, including the droids, T3, who was running a lap of the ship, and HK, who was hoping to see some violence.

By the time they had arrived, Mission had rescued and resuscitated the unfortunate gizka involved. Bastila sat on her bed, quivering in her cotton nightie, her face aghast. She gathered the resolve to ask a question of the crowd in the doorway with a modicum of dignity. "Who did this?"

One of the eight faces beamed victoriously and stepped forward. Carth proceeded to say three of the bravest and dumbest words he could utter to an angry female Jedi. "I did it."

"Carth Onasi!" Bastila stormed from the bed and charged the pilot furiously. The crowd scrambled and diffused. Juhani and Mission left the bunkroom hastily, following Zaalbar to the common room with blankets and pillows in hand.

**Garage**

"Oh man, her face that was priceless! I wish I had been there when she got into bed." Pol chuckled as she wriggled back under the blankets. "I wish I had known! I would have T3 shoot a holovid of the whole thing. I am so proud of Carth. Did you set him up to that?"

"I may have suggested something but if he took my advice I am disappointed, it was too predictable. He really could have put more thought into it than that." Canderous quipped as he belted a pillow.

"What would you have done?" Pol asked, rolling onto her side.

"I don't know… Does it have to be a gizka gag?" Canderous dropped his head to the pillow thoughtfully and laced his fingers behind his neck.

"Yeah!" Pol said, propping herself up on one elbow.

"Hmm, then I would probably have thrown it in the shower with you." A wolfish grin spread from his grey eyes to the corners of his mouth. Unable to resist, Pol traced the line with her finger. Canderous bared his teeth suddenly and made as if to bite it. Pol was startled by the action and pulled her hand away laughing.

"Don't be chewing my hand off, you Gamorrean sandal fancier! So the old gizka in the refresher trick, eh? And why is that better?" Pol asked.

"Well, the end result is screaming naked female, and if I am going to be attacked for my troubles…" Canderous caught Pol lazily and drew her in close. Pol swept her mouth over his teasingly, savoring the look of dissatisfaction in the Mandalorian's grey eyes. He took her face in his hands and bought her mouth to his resolutely.

HK-47 completed his circuit of the Ebon Hawk arriving back in the swoop hanger in time to hear Canderous's last comment. Pol had designed and installed a program she liked to call "MAN OFF" it was a sleazebag deterrent protocol that she had coined years ago.

HK had taken the liberty of re designated it: 'In case of an unwelcome advance from meatbag outside of safe-list designation'. Names aside, the program came online again when Droid and Master were reunited. Canderous' proximity and use of the terms _naked_ and _female_ in the presence of his Master triggered the MAN OFF program for the fourth time that evening.

Unfortunately, Pol had completely forgotten about many of the droid's codes of behavior, and this was one of them. This aspect of the droids programming had been causing havoc for Pol's favorite profanity spouting and exclusively tactile Mandalorian. HK had already made several unsolicited threats of grievous bodily harm against Canderous before Pol remembered the cause.

"Threat: Unhand the Master, meatbag, or the sentients of Anchorhead will be picking your shattered carcass out of their Ronto stew for weeks." Pol held close to Canderous, knowing the droid would do no such thing without authorization or at least a clear shot.

"HK, stand down!" Pol ordered sternly.

"What the frack? AGAIN! What's with this hunk of junk?" Canderous glared at the droid.

"Placating protestation: But Master, this meatbag is violating…"

"How many times do I have to say this? I don't care. I want him to violate. Now for the last time, piss off you stupid droid!"

"Qualification: Master, I have orders…"

Canderous yelled, "And now you have new ones. You heard your Master, get out!"

"HK-47, go stand guard by the door." Pol commanded. HK obediently shuffled out of the swoop hanger and stood guard behind the doorway.

"Now, where were we?" Pol asked. Canderous slid his hands over her shoulders.

"I think we were up to you attacking me without a stitch on." He murmured as he kissed her neck.

HK sprang into action, rounding the doorway with his blaster at the ready. "Propitious request: May I eradicate the offensive meatbag now, Master?"

"NO!" Pol cried, "HK, what's gotten into you? Do you have sand in your circuits?"

"Explanation: Master, I am merely obeying orders."

_I need to think this through like a droid if I'm to get to the bottom of this…Or think like Revan…_ "From who?" Pol asked.

"Condescending clarification: Why, from you, Master." The assassin droid lowered his weapon.

_Duh, of course they are! Now, what did I tell him to do? _. Pol wracked her brain for a minute. Canderous glared at HK and then looked on Pol suspiciously. Pol caught his gaze. "I'm trying to think…I didn't tell him to threaten you, I swear!"

"Good, 'cause this isn't funny anymore, Champ," Canderous scowled.

"Vindication: But Master, you did." HK intoned.

Pol delved into Revan's mindscape, cautiously and was rewarded. Her tone was the Revan of old, it was cool and tight when she asked, "HK, what protocols are you following that override the order I gave you to stand guard just now? What code of conduct permits you to terrorize this man without my direct order?"

"Qualification: The unwanted advances from undesirable meatbags protocol known as MAN OFF states explicitly that this HK unit is to threaten and with permission annihilate all meatbags making advances within the set parameters, against the Master's person. Excluding meatbags that are designated safe. Delighted observation: Master! My scans indicate you are feeling more your old self!"

"Huh? Wait, who's on the safe list?" Canderous demanded jealously.

"Answer: Not you, meatbag!" HK took aim reflexively.

Pol pushed Revan from her mind and strove for control of her conscious thought and her reckless droid. "HK, stand down. Ok…MAN OFF… I remember it now. Out of curiosity… Who is on my safe list?" _Cripes I better not let that happen too often without Juhani close by._

"Recitation: Number of organics designated safe Zero."

"No one is on my safe list. Ha-ha, that doesn't surprise me." Pol covered her laugh with the back of her hand.

"No wonder Revan never got any." Canderous teased.

"Do you want to be on my safe list?" Pol delivered her warning deadpan with one raised eyebrow, in the Jedi Master fashion. The hint of a smile played on her lips, but she was still a little ticked off.

"Yeah," Canderous replied gruffly. Pol continued to stare. Canderous swallowed hard, oops. He appealed with apologetic humility, "Uh…Polly?"

Pol rolled her eyes and relented. "Add Canderous to the safe list."

"Fervent Plea: Master, must I?"

"Yes, you must. And while you're at it, I want you to add Mission Vao, Bastila Shan, and Juhani to your guard list. Safe lists for the three of them to follow…"

Canderous stared up at the ceiling of the swoop hanger, _fracking crazy droids._

**Cantina**

Juhani, Bastila, Jolee, Pol, HK, and Canderous left the hawk together before dawn; they crossed empty streets at a brisk pace. Juhani and Bastila parted ways with them in the town square, heading out in search of the Star Map.

When the female Jedi were out of sight, Jolee turned to his companions. "I don't know about you kid's, but the synth food is rubbish and I'm starved. How 'bout we stop and grab a bite at the cantina on our way out?" He suggested, pointing to the ever-open Anchorhead tavern. The thought of real food held great appeal after the lengthy voyage to Tatooine.

"We don't have a lot of time to spare," Pol considered the idea responsibly.

"Statement: Master, I exist only to serve. Query: Would you like me to meet your nutritional requirements?" The droid awaited a response, stoically keeping pace with the humans.

Pol laughed, her inside knowledge of the droids chassis added a moldy humor to the offer. "Oh, please don't." She was amazed that her secret supply of rations had remained undetected despite the various tinkering of HK's numerous owners. She figured the cache must have remained for HK to have made such an offer, though its nutritional value would have been questionable after all that time.

"He can do that?" Jolee looked at HK, his mouth twisted with revulsion.

"Err, let's just say you don't want to know where a droid keeps his sandwiches. We may as well stop since we will have to break out on the dunes to eat anyways."

The doors swung open to reveal the dimly lit interior that Jolee had familiarized himself with the day before. Canderous stalked to the counter with Jolee, who placed their order. Pol took a seat, and HK stood at attention behind her. Within moments, she was approached by Tanis Venn.

"So, you like droids, eh pretty lady?" He pointed to Pol's red, gun-toting, mechanical companion. "I hunt with a few of them myself. You come here often?"

_I can't believe I am hearing this_. "You hunt with droids? That isn't very sporting."

"Heh, you're beautiful but not too bright. It's a hard living on Tatooine I take every advantage I get." Tanis intimated as he ogled Pol's chest.

HK interjected "Query: Master, is this meat bag irritating you sufficiently yet?"

"That you have to ask says he isn't. HK, go on stand-by." Pol ignored the implication in the hunter's advances. She took to moral high ground and kept him talking with a view to drilling the man on the possible whereabouts of the Star Map. "But you would have to make more kills to cover your overheads, surely."

"I guess." Tanis nodded and pointed to a seat. "Mind if I sit down?"

The request stimulated HK's 'unwelcome advances' response. "Threat: Mind if I blow you to bits, meatbag?"

"HK shut down program: MAN OFF, and then go offline. Sorry about my droid, mind if I ask you a few questions?" Pol countered.

"Sure, anything for a pretty face. What can Tanis do for you?" Tanis eyed HK warily as he took a seat.

"I'm looking for something—" Pol was cut off mid sentence by the hunter.

"Well aren't we all? If it's a good time you're looking for, I'm your man…" Canderous crossed the space between the counter and Pol's table in seconds, seizing Tanis Venn before the hunter could continue, and wrenched him out of his seat.

"No, I believe that would be me." The Mandalorian stated with authority as he deposited Tanis on the cantina floor. He gave him a kick for measure and claimed the newly vacated seat. "Now why didn't HK catch that one?" He asked Pol with a bemused, but slightly accusatory, look as he leaned his elbows on the table.

At the sound of his appellation, HK went online. "Dissatisfied vindication: Canderous, while I would have dearly loved to eviscerate the offending meatbag, my efforts were thwarted by the Master. Query: Master, may I resume regular function again?"

"Yes HK. I was trying to ask him about the Tuskan Raiders." Pol sighed and looked at the swinging cantina doors; Tanis had managed to escape relatively unscathed.

Jolee joined them, juggling a tray of food and a jug of caffa. "Whatchoo kids doing now hmm? Bullying the locals? Bah, there's no call for that. Now, eat up before it gets any hotter, and then let's get on the road."


	19. Chapter 19

The sand melted into the tri sun sky as if swept by a paint brush. Only two suns had risen and the heat formed mirages that teased it into water on the horizon. As the rescue team crossed the Dune Sea, the sand eddied about their boots. Wordlessly, they aimed for a stationary Sandcrawler; its bulk would, at least, offer them temporary shade on their journey. The mobile work-station was the only significant feature in sight, excluding the Czerka boundary markers. As they drew near, Pol picked up a nervous energy from the miners who were posted at the machinery.

The captain of the mining party hailed them as they came over the dunes. The captain's face glowed where it had been sandblasted and sunburned, as if in tribute to his orange hair. "Are you the rescue team?" he asked in a heavy accent.

Pol answered. "Strictly speaking, no, but we will help if we can. What happened here?"

The captain shook his head angrily. "The Sand People. Ack, here they come again! How do they do that?" A group of Tuskan Raiders stormed over the dunes, waving their gaffi sticks aggressively. The miners blanched and raised their arms. Canderous lead the charge against the Sand People. HK gave a jovial indication of preparedness, and Pol commanded him to the impenitent slaughter the droid had been created for. Jolee sighed sadly, and with reluctance, ignited his lightsaber.

As the last of the fifteen Tuskan Raiders fell, a second wave of the Sand People advanced. Pol wiped the grit from her brow and leapt to meet them, amid blaster fire from her droid. Canderous gave a war cry and belted the largest of their assailants to the sand. With a forceful sweep of his scimitar he removed the raiders head. He found his woman and redirected her with a hand signal, so that they stood back to back, ready to fend off the next attack. Pol and Canderous didn't have long to wait.

Jolee immobilized the last group with the Force as they emerged from the heat haze. HK aimed at the static targets. He annihilated them in seconds, delivering neat shots to their heads and dropping them as though they were no more than a walking horde of animated rags.

The miners showed their gratitude with a boisterous cheer, Pol was sickened by the levity and she inwardly cringed. _Yeah, we're real big heroes, Force; I hate this kind of warfare_. "I don't know how you did that, but you have my thanks, lassie." The mining captain regrouped his employees, ready to head back to the town.

"Wait! Before you go, can you tell me anything more about the Sand People? We're looking for their enclave." Pol asked, shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun.

"Their camp is to the west of here, but you'd be balmy to go round there. They'll shoot you on sight with their turrets."

"The Sand People have turrets?" Canderous looked incredulously at the dead Tuskan warrior at his feet. He had gauged them to be rather primitive, given their weaponry, and reliance on numbers and brute strength to overcome a target.

"Aye, probably got them from the Jawas. They're the little folk who salvage the Czerka leavings. No doubt they'll come and wreck this Sandcrawler of ours when we leave." He shook his head pessimistically. "They don't know how to operate the turrets properly; you could use that to your advantage." He said to Canderous.

"How so?" Pol asked. She was tired of people assuming the Chief was in charge based on his age, size and gender. _Maybe I should go back to the black robes and mask…_

The mining captain returned his attention to her when he answered. "Well, from what I hear, they send a runner to turn them on when an enemy approaches."

"So they're not set to differentiate between friendly and hostile targets." Pol surmised thoughtfully. The retired Jedi sighed heavily, Jolee could see where this was going and didn't like it. Canderous grunted in acknowledgement and regretfully assessed the bloodstained rags of the ex-Sand People.

"Aye, that would be it, lassie. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get my men back to Anchorhead." The miners left the shade of the battered Sandcrawler and headed back to town.

"HK did a neat job on these ones." Canderous pointed to the felled Sand People with the least stains. Carbon scorching marred the rags across their faces, but burn marks aside, they were relatively clean looking.

The HK unit trilled mechanically. "Proud declaration: That's droid efficiency at its best!"

"Grizzly son of a food synth, isn't he?" Jolee grumbled. "If we take the head wrappings from the ones your Mandalorian mutilated and the robes from the ones HK terminated, we could have ourselves a convincing enough costume to get past the turrets."

Pol started on the closest cadaver. "This is so disrespectful. They're so heavily covered; in this heat it hardly seems practical. It must meet some ideological principle. This means they'll be really pissed when they see us aliens in their garb." She added as an afterthought.

"You're right on that one, girly." Jolee mumbled. "They won't care much for our appropriation of their dress."

"You'd rather be cut down by their turrets than offend them, even after they attacked us without provocation?" Canderous asked sardonically as he roughly stripped one of the fallen warriors. He threw its gaffi stick to one side, the finishing piece to their costume.

"Hell no!" Jolee laughed. "But I wouldn't call their attack unprovoked. We are on their grounds, Canderous."

"They have no way of knowing we won't defile their lands and subjugate their people, as colonists have done for the last few

millennia." Pol smiled sadly. "And here we are defiling their dead!"

"It is in the name of peace, Pol." Jolee reassured.

Canderous dragged a body over, checking it for size. "You Jedi are crazy."

"Ex-Jedi, son," Jolee corrected the Mandalorian "Now what do you suppose these wiggly doodads are for?" He held some bizarre looking items in his brown palm, while he stroked his goatee, perspicaciously rambling about their probable origins.

The three humans stripped to their civvies and began the lengthy task of donning the heavy clothes of the Sand People. Pol made most of the corrections to their dress, and felt aberrantly maternal as she did so. She examined the fully clad corpses of the Tuskan Raiders for reference while HK kept a faithful watch on the dunes.

It was agreed that their personal effects should be hidden nearby, for easy retrieval on their return. A medium sized faux-Tuskan; Jolee Bindo picked a Czerka boundary marker. The largest of the fake Sand warriors; Canderous disputed the selection sarcastically. "Pfft, yeah, I can see why you found this significant, seeing as there's only twenty thousand just like it in this featureless terrain."

"Well, that Sandcrawler is unlikely to be here much longer with what I hear of the Jawas scavenging abilities. So a marker is our only option." Pol was swamped in the robes, and suffering a slow drain from the heat that seemed to suck her into a leaner, weaker version of herself. She looked back at the gigantic machinery, peering myopically through the strange eyewear of the Tuskan raiders. Her words came out huskily, stifled by the wrapping.

"That's giving them a lot of credit, Champ. There's no way those stunted scrap haulers could move all that in a day."

"Wanna bet? You shouldn't underestimate the height deficient Chief. We did that with Calo, remember? And what did that teach us?" Pol touched her face for the umpteenth time, she felt claustrophobically constricted by the clothes. And to think I complained about those hateful Jedi robes.

"Bah!" Canderous exclaimed.

Pol gave in, she had promised herself that she would endure and that she wouldn't ask, but curiosity won out. "Oh frack it, I have to ask. How hot is it, HK?"

"Answer: It is 120 degrees Fahrenheit, Master, and only two suns have risen." HK responded with a tone of deep portent. "Statement: My core temperature is almost twice that amount. Surface temperature of unit HK-47 is 160. Recommendation: In the interest of meatbag safety, it world not be advisable to touch my chassis at this time."

"Um, HK, it's not safe to touch you anytime."

"Acknowledgement: Oh Master, you flatter me. But in this instance, it would serve you and your meatbag companions well to be mindful of the burns they would receive should physical contact be made."

"HK, I need you to tag that marker." Pol pointed to the marker that Jolee had buried their gear below. HK cocked his wrist and set fire to the marker with his flamethrower. Pol yelled. "I said tag it not toast it!"

"Placating proclamation: Master, I have no other means by which to distinguish this marker from the rest."

"Just extinguish that!" At her word, HK doused the post. The reflector that winked brightly in the charred Plasteel ceased its eternal revolution, welded by HK's flamethrower, into an innovative position.

Jolee nodded his approval, "The roasted marker, shouldn't be too hard to find."

They headed in the direction of the commune, armed only with the gaffi sticks of the fallen warriors. Canderous hefted his experimentally. "You could really do some damage with one of these." He stated, bringing it down into his gauntleted palm with a sickly thud.

Pol's mind went out to their weapons and gear hidden below the melted marker. "Let's hope we don't have to."

The group gained the approach to the enclave with ease. Packs of Banthas stumbled about the dunes, watched by Tuskan Herdsmen. The fraudulent Sand People loped along the dunes in an intrepid imitation of the Sand Peoples gait. HK tromped along beside them. They had been certain that the eight foot red droid would illicit a response from the natives. The fact that he didn't suggested that turrets were not the only foreign tools in the Sand Peoples arsenal. They passed the turrets at the entry to the settlement without difficulty, but were halted by a guard who honked and hooted noisily. His message was clear even without HK's translation.

"HK go on Translate and tell him we mean no harm, tell him that we only want to talk." Pol ordered hastily. The droid complied. After a short discussion, he addressed his mistress.

"Translation: He is surprised, Master, as am I. But he is outraged by your appearance; he demands you remove the clothing of his people immediately. Shall I roast him, Master?"

"No HK. Tell him we will comply, and explain that we had no choice but to don them to pass the turrets."

"Acknowledgment: As you wish, Master."

Pol and her companions stripped swiftly, stopping at their underwear. Jolee handed the clothing to a second guard apologetically, he adopted Pol's pose. They stood with their heads bowed slightly in polite submission. Canderous took a divergent approach; he stood his ground proudly and glared at the guard, until Pol elbowed him in the ribs. Taking her hint, he relented vaguely by dropping the challenge from his gaze.

"Translation: We are being taken to a holding cell to await an audience with the chieftain."

Pol hesitated. "Ask him how long that is likely to take."

"Caution: Such a question might be considered belligerent on your part, Master. Query: do you wish me to ask it anyway?"

"Never mind HK, we will go peacefully."

Five guards escorted them roughly through the Hessian lined pathways of the open air camp. A warrior prodded Pol in the back with his gaffi stick when she tried to get a glimpse past one of the wooden doorways they were passing. Seeing that she had overstepped her mark, she corrected herself, but not before Canderous complained about the treatment of his woman. "Watch yourself." He growled at the Tuskan Guard aggressively. His escort cracked him with a gaffi for his insolence as they were rudely shoved into a small cell.

It was standing room only in the cramped space and HK took up a large portion of it. The humans kept their distance from the broiling hot exterior of his framework. Pol sagged and leaned against Canderous. She rubbed his back, where the guard had struck him. There was no need, he was already healing, but Canderous was receptive to her touch despite the intolerable heat. He smiled in spite of their predicament and used the opportunity to conduct a thorough examination of Pol's figure.

She stood calmly in the baking heat, boldly adorned in the racy lingerie Mission had purchased. Sweat beaded on her lip and brow as she stroked his back absently. Strands of hair slicked down across her cheek when the moisture had fought gravity for it and won it free of her hair clasp. The most of it fell limply over her shoulders. Canderous's gaze fell past the ends of her hair inexorably drawn to her cleavage. "Nice boots." He quipped in Mando'a.

Pol answered back flirtatiously, "You got a license for that firearm, soldier?"

HK commenced translation. "Translation…"

"Whoa! HK, don't translate that, I'm too old for their nonsense." Jolee protested urgently.

"Relieved acknowledgement: Canceling translation. I shall resume interpretation on request. Observation: The Master's statement was ambiguous. Admission: I was unsure of how to translate it."

"I bet you were." Jolee said with a chuckle.

"Observation: My scans indicate that the Mandalorian is unarmed, contrary to the implication of my Master's comment…"

Pol laughed, "HK-47 that will do."


	20. Chapter 20

"HK, tell the Chieftain we seek to end the conflict between the Sand People and the civilians of Anchorhead. And find out if Griff is still alive." Pol instructed the Droid. After a moments deliberation in the Tuskan dialect, HK translated the outcome.

"Translation: The Chieftain says an end to the conflict is impossible, but he will downscale the attacks in exchange for moisture vaporators. He also says you can take the meatbag Griff. Apparently he is alive and useless."

"Tell him we accept, and we will return with the moisture vaporators."

"Translation: He doubts your sincerity, Master. As surety, he demands you and the Mandalorian remain, while the 'old one' procures the vaporators."

"Then ask if Jolee can bring Mission back to the enclave, she will want to see her brother."

The droid interpreted the request unintelligibly. After a confusing exchange, HK announced the results of the dialogue. "Translation: Master, it seems that the meatbag Griff has made quite an impression on the Tuskan people. The Chieftain says the Twi'lek Mission may return with Jolee, providing we promise to take _both_ the female Twi'lek and her delinquent brother when we leave."

Canderous jibed, "HK, find out if there is any chance they'll bend on that last point and tell them she is a good little worker."

Pol gave Canderous a livid reprimand. "Cand! Ignore that HK, we never intended to leave Mission here. Canderous is just kidding."

"Am I? We could do with one less mouth to feed…" Pol gave the Mandalorian a stern look. "Fine," He grumbled. When Jolee left the enclave, HK and his Masters were deposited in a waiting room. It was a distinct step up from the holding cell, but still uncomfortable. The four Sand Warriors that joined them in the room kept them quiet for the three hours that they waited; wilting in the dry heat

**Reunion**

"Griff!" Mission cried and closed the distance between her brother and herself. They hugged briefly. Jolee noticed that they both wiped their hands on their trousers after the hug; a classic mark of sibling aversion. Jolee sighed; Griff wasn't all that much older than Mission, and the implications, that held saddened him. _Those poor children, it's a wonder they survived each other._

"Wow Mission, am I glad to see you. Guess you got off Taris ok then?" Griff enthused.

Mission glared at him, no longer capable of enduring the devastating loss of her home. She began belting Griff brutally, "Yea no thanks to you - you mongrel…"She timed her blows with her words thumping at his chest, "Leigrek groping…Kinrath spawn!" Mission slammed Griff violently again with both her fists tears of rage clouding and doubling her vision. The older Twi'lek fended off the blows awkwardly between mumbling lame excuses for his lax behavior.

"Mission, wait you don't understand, I uh thought you were ok, I mean you were pretty grown up and all." Griff protested.

"I was twelve!"

Canderous and Pol viewed the exchange with mixed emotions. They were impressed and amused by the sight of Mission exacting her revenge on her brother, but incensed by his disregard for her welfare. Canderous in particular was disgusted by the young mans irresponsibility. He privately regretted the gag he had made about leaving Mission with the Tuskan's and was grateful she hadn't heard it.

Even in retirement Jolee epitomized the Consular code. He played peacemaker and intervened cautiously "We all make mistakes kids, perhaps it's time to forgive and forget. Mission you were too young to be left alone and Griff you were and still are too young to act as a parent. You're both victims here. You have to stick together." Jolee separated the feuding blue aliens gently.

"Yeah the old man's right Mission, you should listen to your Jedi friend."

"Whatever." Mission turned her back but Jolee caught her shoulder and turned her gently to face her brother again.

"Mission? Do you have something to say to your brother?" Jolee prompted.

Mission gave in. "So what are you going to do Griff?" She asked through clenched teeth.

"Well… This Czerka job hasn't exactly worked out for me Mission, and it looks like you're doing really well. I don't suppose you could spare me a few credits till I get on my feet again?"

"You're hitting me up for credits? Lena was right about you Griff, you are core slime! I don't ever want to see you again!" Mission stomped off angrily. Jolee gave Griff a disgusted wave and followed Mission, protesting about family values, as they left the enclave.

"Well Griff, you've really done it now." Pol said with a shake of her head. _This guys a real prize no wonder the Sand People didn't want him._

"Heh, she's just mad, she'll cool off." Griff gave a guilty smile.

Pol glared at Mission's brother, "You sure about that Griff? It wouldn't have killed you to apologize."

"I suppose you're right. Say, you wouldn't have some change would you? See I've got this idea…" Griff appealed desperately to Pol.

Canderous answered gruffly, "NO she doesn't. Now get out of here before I ask HK to tell the Sand People you've been 'interfering' with their herds."

Griff paled and gulped anxiously. "You uh, you wouldn't do that, right?"

Pol said, "Just try him Griff." And the Twi'lek bolted.

"Observation: Master my scans indicate that the Twi'lek 'Griff' is immensely unpopular at present. Query: Would you like me to terminate the retreating Twi'lek?" HK offered.

"No HK leave him be. Interfering with their Banthas? That was so wrong!" She laughed ruefully as they watched Griff's flight.

"He deserves it; we should head back to the Hawk."

**Its love isn't it?**

The walk back was peaceful; the Sand People let them pass back to Czerka territory without contest. The weary sunburned pair gratefully retrieved their gear from beneath the burnt marker, scrabbling in the sand for their clothing. Jolee had already retrieved his on his errand for the moisture vaporators. "You reunited Mission with her brother, for better or worse… Once again they love you, so who's the hero now Pol Valor?" Canderous asked as they shook sand from their belongings.

Pol was morose. The scene with Griff hadn't been all that she had hoped for Mission and she was still haunted by the quiet time they had spent under guard by the Sand People. It had given her time to think of the future, and question what it held. Given all she knew it was hard to be optimistic.

Revan had whispered in her ear, the breath of a memory not completely unified within her spirit. She had not been bought to task over leading the Jedi to war, against the Order's wishes. _You know what the Jedi will give you Pol… for saving the Republic? No shiny medal like Carth got, just twenty years in a force cage for a job well done… Look at your boyfriend, even he got more out of the Mandalorian wars than we did, and they lost._

In addition to her misconduct over the Mandalorian wars, the nature and extent of her crimes as a Sith lord were doubly severe. Leniency was not likely to be forthcoming from the Order or the Republic. Pol would be tried by both factions for her misdeeds as Darth Revan.

Pol spoke with a broken spirit, "Heroine… villain, what they call me all depends on whose side I am killing for. They don't love me Canderous; they just love what I do… that is for now, while they've got a job that needs doing."

The Mandalorian made no attempt to lift her mood. He had been trying for weeks to rouse her to some kind of action. He hated not having a plan. _This could go very badly for her_. "At least you see that."

Pol dressed with shaking hands, until Canderous caught them in his. She was so distraught she looked as though she was trying to hold up her face with her eyes. "I am so screwed. What the frack am I going to do?" She asked him desperately. Canderous hugged her tightly. He took her head in his arms as she left wet tears on his shirt. He held her close and after the sand had seen more moisture from her weeping than it had in an era her shaking finally subsided.

_The waterworks are finished, time to cheer her up_. "Well to start with you could admit you can't bear the thought of living without me." Canderous boasted.

Pol laughed quietly. "Why should I? You've never said as much to me." She wiped a stray tear from her eye and sniffed inelegantly, wiping her burnt face on her sleeve.

Canderous held her by the shoulders at arms length and looked into her eyes directly. "I have." He stated with a frown.

"Bomadust! Oh you big liar, you have not. I'd remember if you had." Pol argued.

His eyes sparked at the accusation. "Liar! What? I've told you plenty of times. It's not my fault if you misheard me." He snapped gruffly. _She's got to be kidding, I tell her all the time._

"When? Hmm? When have you said it Chief? I know the Mando'a word for love." Pol snapped.

Canderous planned his defense. "I remember the first time clearly, I told you on the Ebon Hawk, then again later in your rooms on Dantooine." _Trust the amnesiac to forget the most important thing I tell her_.

"Yeah right," Pol challenged him with her disbelief, "say it now then."

Canderous let her go. Oh man. His eyes darted about for a place to look that wasn't Pol shaped. Canderous tried staring at the sand. He coughed. Looking up at last he ran his hands boyishly through his silver hair, "Now?" He asked with a petulant sneer.

"I insist." _You are not worming your way out of this Chief. I need this, tell me now._

"'Bah, you're ok.'"

Pol's mouth dropped open, "WHAT?" She exclaimed; her voice fell short in the heat about them dashing itself ineffectually against the dunes. Canderous grinned at her reaction.

"That's it?" she cried "That's your grand declaration of love?" He began to laugh. Pol saluted him, but she was smiling. "You ass," She grumbled as she armed herself for the trek back to Anchorhead.

Canderous buckled on his bandoleer and scabbard. "Yeah, so do I get a kiss now?"

"No." Pol pouted and turned her back on her love. She started to walk away calling back at him, "We should return to the Hawk."

"Oh come on, just cuz I don't meet your romantic ideal is no reason to sulk." He teased.

Pol stopped in her tracks he couldn't see her face but he could tell she was smiling when she said, "Bah you're ok." In imitation of his sonorous drawl.

"Ha you are going to throw that and expect me to go fetch? I'm not your Kath hound Pol; let's hear it in your words then." Canderous spun her about to face him.

"Too bad," She quipped turning her back again.

"T3 and HK are right Pol; you are wired to be cruel."

_The droid's are talking about me? _"Yeah well, you're about as romantic as a blank round of ammo."

Canderous shrugged. "I'm a warrior not a courtesan."

Pol rounded to face him again, "You want to hear it from me you got to work for it."

Canderous considered the challenge for a split second and agreed. "Fine be a child, now kiss me." Looking ready to pounce in frustration he leaned towards her expectantly.

Pol grabbed his chin in her hand halting his progress. "Ok I'll take your lame excuse for romance… for now…but you better lift your game." She threatened narrowing her eyes. Their mouths met in a single-minded expression of desire. The familiar longing compacted her will down to nothing, as they kissed she gave in to his embrace. Pol pulled away from the clinch her heart aching as if from over use.

"Oh and I think you should know I won't buy the 'can't teach an old dog new tricks' line either Ordo." She warned with a seductive sparkle to her eyes. Canderous threw her a sidelong smile, tinged with pride, and accepted the hand she slipped into his for the walk back to town.

**Jagi**

Canderous stopped suddenly in the congested streets of Anchorhead; it took Pol a moment to realize she had lost her companion. She pulled up short to see Canderous staring down hatefully at another Mandalorian. The fiery young man cursed venomously at Canderous. "You thought I was dead didn't you? You thought that we all perished in the attack!"

"Soldier you are out of line, watch yourself." Canderous had gone quiet assuming a killing tone.

Pol intervened, "I take it you know each other?"

"This has nothing to do with you Jetiise!" Jagi sneered at Pol; Canderous took a step closer to Jagi menacingly, but the smaller male continued his rant. "You sent us to die in a worthless attack while you directed your forces elsewhere!"

"I did what was prudent at the time!" Canderous was losing his cool. Pol shivered at the draining affect his anger had on the superheated air about them.

With the memories of Revan not far from her mind Pol found herself speaking out of line. "Things happen in war." For a moment she couldn't tell whose words had come from her mouth.

Jagi eyed her with unrepentant loathing. "I said stay out of it; this has nothing to do with you Jedi."

"This affects my employer Jagi…" Canderous began.

"Employer, you work for the stinking Jedi? How the mighty have fallen! You broke from the battle plan and let us die for it, so that you could steal the honor of killing the enemy commander! I have spent years tracking you down since the clans were banished, and I will not rest until I have my vengeance! I challenge you Canderous Ordo to the fight you fled above Althir. The Dune Sea at dawn and don't think of fleeing this one. I have already spread the news of my challenge. The surviving Mandalorian clans know what I do here. If you fail to meet me you will be stripped of your honor and cast out of our society forever."

Jagi stalked away before a reply could form on Canderous's lips. At first he was too stupefied to respond, honor duels were common but it was rare for such an unfitting challenge to be made. The rational behind Jagi's rage eluded Canderous. Pol tugged at his elbow. He gave an irritated and noncommittal grunt and they headed on their way again.

Pol scanned her memory banks trolling through the archives of Canderous's war stories. "What was that about? Jagi was in the battle of Althir? So you were the general and you changed a battle plan…that's what generals do… what's it to him? He _was_ just a warrior right, a soldier under your command?" She reviewed Revan's working knowledge of Mandalorian culture and her own familiarity with her Mandalorian friend, trying to find some supporting framework for Jagi's claim. _This is weird._

Canderous scowled as they pushed past a clump of Jawas. "Yeah,"

"So he doesn't have a leg to stand on right?" A lump of ice settled in Pol's gut.

"Yeah,"

"So call him stumpy and move on!" Pol suggested with a frustrated groan.

"Pol you don't understand, I've been given a challenge, my honor is at stake, I can't ignore it no matter how fracked up it may be. I have to go to the dune seas in the morning and kill Jagi for this insult." Canderous was reluctant to say more.

"Ok… so I'm your employer?" Pol asked as she quirked an eyebrow in the Mandalorian's direction, "what's that about?"

"Who else did you think I was working for?" Canderous let her words and jokes wash by as his boots ground out determined prints back to the Ebon Hawk. "You're a strange girl Pol."

"Well you know what they say 'eat you meal ticket and you get small satisfaction, but in the long run you starve'. Chief you sure you don't want to talk about this?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." _Let it be Pol._

"You know a wise man once said to me that if you didn't feel like talking it usually meant you probably should"

"Nice try Pol. I won't talk but if you are lucky Jagi might cough up the big one before I spread him into a paste over the dunes."

"I'm coming then?"

"An honor duel needs witnesses to verify the honorable victor. I don't trust the morons he's associating with." Pol left Canderous to his inner workings and tried hard not to fall victim to her own for the rest of the walk.


	21. Chapter 21

**Ebon Hawk**

Juhani spoke succinctly the faint glimmer of her pearlescent incisors reflecting the artificial lighting like diamonds. "We have located the Star Map. We should prepare to leave presently." Bastila nodded in concurrence.

"I hate to break it to you but there is the small problem of the fuel bill. We can't leave till it's settled," Carth winced and handed the invoice past Bastila, to Jolee. The Ex Jedi accepted it.

"Tch inflation, gas hikes, gizka infestations, wayward Jedi – not you Juhani- bad food and street theatre. I was better off on Kashyyyk." Behind the joke, Jolee cast a stern but not unkind look towards Bastila. She had been behaving oddly since the gizka episode and had become quite sullen. Jolee wondered if her mood shift was due to her link with Pol. The porcelain beauty flushed lightly and a quick glance about the common room told them both that only Jolee had noticed.

Jolee looked at Pol. She spoke rapidly and seemed distracted, as always but cheerily so. Jolee saw the play for what it really was; a mottled camouflage for her apprehension. He pondered the cause of her anxiety as she spoke.

"It's not too late to drop you back there old man!" Pol laughed. She glanced at Canderous. He was seated leaning elbows to knees; hands clasped and pressed against his forehead, chin down staring at his boots. His hair was messed up, a sure sign to Pol that he had been 'thinking'.

"Trying to be rid of me already kids?" Jolee laughed, one look at Canderous told him why Pol was worried.

"Did you only just notice? Sensitive soul aint you?" Pol gave him a wink, "Well there's still swoop racing for credits, but the circuit doesn't open till noon. What do you think boss?" _Perfect that should stall them for you Chief. Bet you're glad you fixed my bike now._

Bastila gave her consent, "Very well. You can race, but only because I don't see any easier way to earn the credits quickly."

Bastila may not have seen an easier way to earn credits quickly, but Mission did. Mission held up her hand ready to volunteer her 'alternative' solution to the credit crisis. Juhani silenced her with a look. Mission let her hand fall to her lap again. A second chastising look from Juhani and she decided it would be best to sit on them.

Carth pitched in, "They're still open for a couple more hours today, we could have you on the track for the next race."

_Pol blanched, ah nuts I need more time than that. _"They're almost done for the day Carth and quite frankly so am I. I can't race tonight I'm shattered from running about in this heat."

"Fair enough Pol," the pilot nodded in understanding, "Just give me a yell at first light and we'll get your bike over in the morning so you can make the opening time trials at noon."

Ah_ crap that's no good either._ Pol back peddled. _Oh Canderous, just tell them about the duel you big lug_. "Ok, I uh I have something to do in the morning, I'd really appreciate it if you could get the bike over without me. I'll be there by noon though I swear."

"Fine, Canderous can help me…" Carth looked to the Mandalorian, "hey Cand' you listening?"

His grey head snapped up. "What?"

Pol rescued him. "We have plans, I mean… I need Canderous's help tomorrow morning…" _Could someone just help me for once…? Zaalbar you big beautiful blanket!_

Zaalbar caught Pol's desperate non verbal plea in his capable paws. (I'll help Carth.) He said.

Carth clapped his hands together. "Good, that's settled then." and left the common room.

Jolee put in his two credits. I_ wonder what they're up to_. "You kids have plans together; now why doesn't that come as a surprise?" He wagged a finger between the scowling Mandalorian and the nervy ex Jedi. If they had anything illegal planned; they weren't talking. _Hmm up to no good, and neither of them happy about it._

Jolee had begun to think of himself as the only responsible adult aboard the Hawk. The exchange that had just occurred supported his hypothesis nicely. Due to his retired status, he left the role of most responsible Jedi to Juhani. Juhani streaked ahead of even Bastila, lately, in maturity and commitment to the code. Despite his momentarily limited view of Pol, Jolee was pleasantly surprised when she arrived in his quarters asking for advice on a matter of diplomacy.

**Dawn: Dune Sea**

They had left early, but Jagi had still beaten them to the site. Canderous wondered if the younger man had slept. He himself had rested uneasily until the early hours when Pol had complained about his wakefulness. "Go to sleep already. I can hear your eyeballs grinding holes through the durasteel." She had grumbled.

Canderous suspected she had done something to him with the Force after that; because despite having only two hours of solid sleep he felt unusually refreshed. _Probably shouldn't complain about that at my age. _

"Right where he said he'd be." Pol pointed her vibrosword towards the rogue Mandalorian and his companions. She had purposefully left her lightsaber back at the Hawk. Canderous gave a derisive snort.

"I see you bought your pet Jedi, Canderous." Jagi accused.

"I came of my own will." Pol retorted calmly.

"I don't need your excuses Jetii; we all know why he brought you."

Canderous shouted angrily across the sand. "Enough talk Jagi lets do what we came here to do!"

The evening before Pol had dutifully attended the Bindo School for ex Jedi. She recalled her lesson and chose her moment carefully. She tried not to be drawn into the spell of ill humor that had been lingering since the challenge was set. "Calm down both of you. What's this really about?" The words meant almost nothing to her. They lacked conviction and she was surprised to get a response. Old ideas echoed in her head.

Jagi answered her question, but directed his scathing response to Canderous. "What's this about? In the battle of Althir you ordered us to attack the enemy flank, promising us support. When you saw better prospects for yourself you abandoned the plan and left us to die surrounded by enemies!"

She listened as Canderous replied in kind, the wretched calm sneaking over her conscience. "The Althiri were fighting hard. I saw a break in their defenses that left their centre exposed. If I had not done what I did many more warriors would have perished, my actions ended the battle sooner. I stand by my decision!" Canderous was incensed.

"You sent your own men to die there Canderous, the battle still would have been won. You will pay for what you did to us!" Jagi raged.

Frustrated by the cycle of accusations Pol lashed out, skewering what she thought was the crux of the matter with cruel logic. It only took a second for the change in Pol to occur. Her eyes grew cold, her throat constricted, her skin paled and her skeleton welded itself rigid. She felt ten feet tall and imbued with Canderous's vicarious outrage.

When she spoke it was Revan's language that alighted from Pol's mouth. "Listen to yourself Jagi. By your words, this sniveling complaint you prove to be about as Mandalorian as I am. You were strong to survive that assault don't cheapen yourself with this weakness. If Canderous sent you to die it was his right as your commander. Sacrifices are made in war Jagi. Necessary force,"

Canderous was momentarily staggered by Pol's unexpected speech, but recovered quickly "Even an outlander can see your ire is misplaced! I can regret their loss Jagi, they were fine warriors but it was necessary. Mandalore taught us that opportunism and flexibility in battle were to be admired, you may contradict me, but have you sunk so low as to contradict him as well? But this duel goes beyond that, Jagi this is a matter of honor now." Canderous reached for his sword but sheathed it again when he noticed Jagi's face and the direction the young mans blaster was pointing.

Shame scoured the man's facade down to the bare bones of his soul. "No! I…I…I had not seen it that way. I have been wrong; I was not true to the teachings of Mandalore. This is a matter of honor, but the dishonor lies with me Canderous, not with you I see that now. And I shall cleanse the taint on my honor with my life." He held his blaster to his temple and pulled the trigger.

Canderous whispered as the body fell emptily toppling to the windswept dunes. "And so it shall be." As they left Jagi's witnesses to remove the corpse, a ghost of Revan walked by his side.

**Space Port**

The crew of the Ebon Hawk had been living rough side by side for months and had come to know each other well enough to tell when things weren't right. Despite his inner turmoil over Jagi's suicide, Canderous had noticed something was off about Pol.

The problem was not with the familiar companionable silence they shared, nor the feel of her hand in his. It was her voice and the way she moved. It had occurred to Canderous as he watched her spar with Bastila some weeks ago that Pol did move differently from Revan. His first impression had not been accurate, as time had clouded his memory.

Pol was a warrior at all times… even when she 'made' caffa. He had come to realize she had no natural aptitude for stealth because she had never needed it. She wasn't a klutz, she was a brute. What stealthy technique she had developed over the last months, was from hard won lessons, by his hand.

Revan commanded, she reigned, she didn't make caffa, she didn't wash dishes and she didn't fix galaxies. As Revan she had stormed, charged and crushed her opposition with unfailing confidence. With Pol's history restored she made perfect sense.

The memory was a kinetic one; even before she recalled her past; Pol's body remembered that brutal mentality her mind had forgotten. So in spite of her serenity, good nature and her glib humors, Pol's body raged, pounding purposefully through its environment. _Take the most powerful woman in the galaxy, strip away her past and she will still walk like a queen._ The effect was a girl both graceful and graceless.

Though it was hard to pick through her silence it was a slight drift in the cadence of her voice that had bothered him the most. She had sounded different on the dunes. She had spoken in basic; so it had not been the strange accent she added to Mando'a. Yet on the dunes she had made her point like a true Mandalorian, something he had always hoped to hear, but the voice she used was not entirely Pol's.

Canderous abandoned the thought and resumed his assessment of Jagi's behavior. He decided that unless Pol spoke he wouldn't be able to solve the riddle, and he wasn't in the mood to talk. They trudged on through the heat haze.

She broke the silence when they neared the spaceport cantina. "Buy you a drink handsome?" She asked like a stranger with a smile that was not quite her own. Canderous left his musings and viewed the woman before him with critical eyes. She stared back, the corner of her mouth curling seductively. Canderous almost surrendered to her, her supreme confidence ensnared him, but there was no warmth to her eyes.

_I know who you are, but where's Pol? _"You have a race to prepare for." Canderous said each word carefully as though he was speaking to a child. He watched her reaction intently.

"A race," She repeated the words absently and began twisting the hem of her shirt. Pol cleared her mind, releasing the past she had been bearing. Revan was an aspect of herself she had been forced to accept. Accountability for her past actions would have been impossible without recognizing the woman she had been. Jolee, Juhani and Bastila had aided her healing in sessions, under the guise of regular Jedi 'meditation'.

Through guided meditations Pol unpacked her memories diligently and tried to comprehend the mindset that formed them. As she went she scavenged data useful to their assignment, the elimination of Malak and the restoration of the Republic. Amalgamating Revan with Pol was a more personal project one that required momentous healing for both of them.

The fact that she had slipped so easily into her former persona on the Dunes was not Pol's main concern. It was that she has done it before Canderous and without the usual safety net of responsible Force users. Pol would have been hard pressed to find anyone more accepting of her former self than Canderous, but that idea banked its own wealth of worthy concerns.

Foremost had been that, while Canderous admired Revan, Pol was less certain that Revan, not being a Mandalorian, would be kindly disposed towards the foe she had fought so hard to vanquish. The events on the dunes had soothed that apprehension for Pol; Revan seemed to share the same sentiment as Canderous, a healthy regard for a fellow veteran. But Revan's respect for Canderous was almost as frightening as the alternative.

Bastila feared that Canderous would emancipate Revan, the old attitudes and the desire for power. The thought of slipping inexorably back to her old ways sickened Pol, but as much as she hated to admit it Bastila was right. _It could be so easy to fall, especially with his support. I won't fall, this can't happen again. I have a race. I hope Bastila is ok; I better get Juhani to have a good look at us. I REALLY want a cigarra…._

"Pol?"

"What?" Pol snapped back, but she was still burdened by an old craving.

"What just happened?"

"Sorry, I have flashes sometimes,"

"Flashes?" _Oh great. The perfect warrior woman…except she has 'visions' and 'flashes'_

"You know moments when I'd rather be called Revan. I guess its sort of …well it's a part of me I miss." Pol mumbled her old name and grinned impishly with the admission.

"Which Revan we talking about? Not that it matters to me, but I'd still like to know."

"The one that kicked your ass in the wars, Mandalorian!" _No, not the Sith, but not far from it._

"I though Juhani was supposed to be fixing this… Hmm well if you ever get one of your 'flashes', oh I don't know…in bed? You be sure and let me know," Canderous gave Pol a wink.

"Ha you're such a jerk! So about Jagi, what are your thoughts? I mean what happened at the dunes… that was…" Pol shook her head in disbelief. _How did he know about Juhani healing me? Is nothing sacred on this ship?_

Bitterness fouled his mood once more and Canderous finished Pol's sentence gruffly, "A first and a last." He barked. They resumed their progress though the space port.

"You ok Chief?"

The Mandalorian softened at the sight of her eyes, broad with concern, "I …I need some time with this…To think." His voice was hollow; it reminded Pol of the trees of Dantooine, barreled out for storage in the lean seasons.

Pol's distress was almost tangible. "Alright," she quietly agreed as they stepped up to the Ebon Hawk's boarding ramp.

"Pol," Re_van…_

"Yes?"

"You're ok." As they embraced Canderous thought he heard Revan's voice cut through Pol's, but he couldn't see her face to be sure.

"You too big guy," She said.

**Two sides of one woman – can crazy work?**

With limited time to herself and no chance of much needed psychotherapy Pol had divided her life and personality into three distinct parts to cope with her past and all it entailed. She allotted space for each aspect of herself.

She had built a vault for the decaying remains of Darth Revan the Sith lord, the grotesque being that still clung tenaciously to secrets such as the whereabouts of the Star Forge.

In a wicker cage, Revan, fresh from a victory over the Mandalorians, and bitter over her impending rejection from the Jedi Order, awaiting her trial. It was this Revan who had begun to seek the Star Maps and this Revan that Pol aired on occasion. During meditation she soothed Revan, hoping to reconcile her with the present and prevent her fall. Juhani and Jolee helped to unify Pol's consciousness gradually; they wanted her whole and healthy again.

Juhani had dealt with her own demons under the guidance of Master Vandar and she structured Pol's healing. The Cathar had been instrumental to Pol's ongoing success. It wasn't something they discussed with the crew, saving Bastila, who was privy to Pol's treatment. Pol hadn't realized that Canderous knew.

Still reeling form the events on the dunes Pol approached Juhani in the common room. "Ju, do you have a moment?" She asked with a light quaver to her voice.

Juhani, sensing Pol's urgency, answered without question, "Certainly Pol." The two women sought refuge in the cool confines of the cargo hold.

"I was hoping you could read my aura." She confessed.

They sat cross legged on the floor facing one another. They measured their breaths and opened themselves to the Force. Pol's aura read bright and clean to Juhani's vision. It tugged lightly at her own aura, she had gotten used to Pol's influence. At last she gave her assessment. "It is well Pol. Shall I read Revan's?"

"Feel up to it?" Juhani nodded and Pol resumed her meditations. This time she made space mentally for Revan to stride in allowing her perception of the situation to guide her emotional state.

Revan spoke aloud. "Am I _all _bad Juhani?" The question was sincere but a wicked humor permeated the words.

Juhani called Pol back breaking the trance, "Pol?"

"Yes?" Worry strained her unnaturally youthful complexion.

"There is a grayish drain to her aura, I saw doubt and desire."

Anger brimmed in Pol; she accepted it and followed it to its source…guilt. She knew it to be true but the shame and disappointment was an unbearable weight. "It was clear last time, I thought if I gave Revan time to adjust, more time out to atone… I thought this was helping. What am I doing wrong?" Tears fell and gravity bore them down her face, where they peaked at her chin and dripped to the cargo hold floor.

"Pol, she is still vastly improved, and we are here for you, do not despair."

"But you are worried Juhani; I see it. I have gone backwards."

Juhani's yellow eyes posed the question before her mouth did. "What happened this morning?" She held her head to the side balanced atop a graceful feline neck. The beads on the ends of her braids tinkled together like pebbles splashing to a shallow riverbed.

"I can't say…it is not my place to. There was a confrontation… a dispute. I let Revan take the lead."

"Why? How did this happen?"

"I couldn't resolve the situation," _I didn't want to._ "At least I couldn't solve it my way, I drew on her strength and knowledge, it was necessary…but she lingered," _To be near Canderous…?_

Juhani sighed, "Like she did just now. You need more time; I only wish the council could have given it to you."

"I have to be more disciplined, I have to exercise more control. Hopefully there won't be any more situations like this morning."

"Pol this is not a failure. You are healing well and your consideration for Bastila during this time is commendable."

"Can you check up on her once in a while for me? She's never been darkside. She doesn't understand what it is like. I hope she never does. All this 'tinkering' with my past and this crazy split in my personality…Can we be absolutely certain this won't put her at risk?" Pol wiped the tears from her face, and wiped her nose.

Juhani placed her hand on Pol's shoulder reassuringly, "No more than is necessary, you will not always be divided so; and Jolee shields her well while we work. Pol I would like to tell you that you are a brave woman."

"No braver than you Juhani. Your support means everything to me, I hope you are right and I thank you my friend.


	22. Chapter 22

**Swoop track**

Pol shrugged into the protective leathers of a pro racer with assistance and advice from Mission. She used the lull to catch up on gossip. "So Mish, what's the score with Carth and Bastila?"

Mission looked up from the strap she fastened about Pol's thigh, "Haven't you heard? Things went from woot to poot after he dropped that poor gizka in her bed. Now she won't talk to him."

Mission seemed relieved and Pol wondered how much money was at stake and who she gambling with. Her suspicions were confirmed when they rejoined the crew in the swoop pits. Jolee and Zaalbar were surveying the nonverbal dialogue between Bastila and Carth with marked interest.

Of all the racers, Pol had the biggest crowd in the pits barracking for her. This verity had not gone unmissed by the race master, Motta the Hutt. He slapped his heavy slug-like tail against the podium that bore his impressive girth and watched them with red tinged eyes, as he waited for the trials to begin.

Down in the pits Juhani, Jolee, Mission, Carth and a silent Bastila watched as T3 and Zaalbar made the last checks on Pol's bike. HK stood guard whilst Pol geared her mind to the task. When all was ready Carth signaled Motta the Hutt who called the race.

Carth helped Pol onto the bike with careful hands and wondered for the umpteenth time why Canderous wasn't present. He considered asking, but dismissed the thought not wanting to put Pol off her race. When she was ready he made his way cautiously to Bastila's side.

"Mind if I sit here?" He asked indicating the seat beside the Jedi. Bastila folded her arms resolutely. Carth sighed, "You are the most frustrating, childish woman I have ever met, Jedi or no."

"How dare YOU call me childish?" Bastila's whisper was a hot reprimand for the his practical joke. Mission, Zaalbar and Jolee took seats close to the pair; their interest peaked by the fiscal value of the ensuing conversation. Carth shot them a glance that made even Jolee uncomfortable, and the gamblers begrudgingly moved back to the sidelines of the track affording the subjects of their wager some privacy.

"This is bloody ridiculous Carth, whatever feelings we may have nothing can come of this." Bastila reasoned it out, speaking cursorily, barely parting her lips to annunciate.

Carth face split with a dazzling smile. "Ah but you admit there is something there," he beamed.

Bastila gulped and closed her eyes. _Oh bugger now I've done it. If I don't encourage him he will get bored and go away. Just like all the others…_ "Carth must you persist in this folly?"

There was a trace of hurt in Carth's expression as he dismissed his emotions. "Fine, Bastila if that's the way you want it. Forget I said anything."

"Or did anything." Bastila added snippily. _Good that should sort him out._

_Oh ho, if that's the way you want to play it sister! _Carth couldn't resist, he reminded her of the moment they had shared the night of the Gizka incident. "And that YOU were the one who kissed me." _Meditate on that Gorgeous._

"OH shut up!" Bastila snapped at him and then stood to join Juhani at the fence. Shielding her face from the sun with her hand she watched Pol settle in at the starting position.

"What are you looking at?" Carth asked the astromech device. T3 chimed "beep doot dee beep beep." In a tone that the pilot was certain held a defamatory belligerence. He eyed it suspiciously as it trundled back to Zaalbar's side.

Pol screamed her way through the trials smoking Yuka Rill's second tier track time. The Ithorian's face fell, his long neck almost doubling when her official time was announced. She returned to the pits to await her next run.

Despite all her best efforts, and a gratuitous threat to the champ Nico compliments of HK-47, Pol had no joy in beating his record. She gave it three shots and but the title of champion and the credits that came with it evaded her.

"This is a waste of time and credits," she said "I can't break 21.05. The mods on Nico's bike are stellar and I'm too heavy on this swoop to best him, even running the prototype accelerator hot. Mission do you wanna give the old girl a burn across the sand?" Pol tugged off her jacket and held it to the young woman.

Mission grabbed it excitedly. "Oh my various god's yes!"

"Last run is in 20 minutes and you only get one shot, sorry about that I should have quit while I was ahead. We're still 500 credits shy of the full tank." Pol unlaced her remaining leathers to the sound of heavy protest.

Carth yelled, "NO WAY!"

Bastila squawked "ABSOULUTELY NOT IT IS FAR TOO DANGEROUS!"

Pol continued to hand her race kit to Mission piece by piece as she removed the protective outer layer form her clothing. "Pfft, Mission is a swoop brat from way back; she'll probably wipe the floor with my times. I don't know why we didn't think of it earlier."She grumbled as she undressed.

Mission's fellow Tarisian leant her support. "Gadon would not have tolerated her presence if she had no talent for the race," Juhani purred "Mission will be fine Padawan Bastila."

"Thanks Ju." Mission poked her tongue in the direction of her hecklers. Carth and Bastila sighed in unison and sat side by side. The teen wrapped herself in the leathers, with speed and familiarity that evidently came from practice, while Pol declared the change of rider to Motta the Hutt.

Bastila and Carth frowned worriedly together freezing the sunshine with their scowls. Pol stalked over to them grinning. "Look at you two! She will be fine, I know it. She has several years' worth of track time. I have barely an hours worth of experience remember? This will be good for her; you didn't see her with Griff. She needs this." _Something has to go right for that girl._

Carth answered, stealing the words Bastila had been about to utter, "I hope you're right Pol." Bastila glanced at him with mild surprise then turned her attention to the track. More frequently it seemed the Republic pilot was her only supporter.

Pol leaned on the railing beside Zaalbar who hooted encouragement to Mission as she lined up the bike and awaited the signal. They were grinning and waving like proud parents, so zealous in their support that Bastila felt a pull through their shared bond. The Jedi smiled, a little at first and then so broadly her face seemed about to snap; as though it was unused to the expression. Carth viewed her with alarm. "Bastila? Are you ok?"

Juhani had spotted it too. The Cathar channeled the Force and viewed the scene from the ethereal plane. She could see Pol's enthusiasm clearly as it swept along their Force connection. Before Juhani could recommend Jolee shield Bastila from Pol's vibrant mood it was too late.

Still smiling Bastila grabbed Carth by the hand and led him to the sidelines. "Come, the view is better from the railings." She said.

_Well this is a turn around_, Carth thought as he followed the Jedi. "Ok..."_ Just when I think I know her_…_ not that I'm complaining._

They watched on as Mission pasted Nico's record to the pages of swoop history with seconds to spare; running the circuit in a spectacular 16.2. Uninjured she hopped off the bike like she was stepping off cloud nine and waved to her delighted fans.

Elated by the victory the crowd went wild. Euphoric relief washed over Pol, she hadn't been concerned about Mission's capability with the bike, more worried she wouldn't have fun. Pol hugged Juhani, Pol hugged Jolee, Pol hugged Zaalbar, Pol hugged T3. Bastila hugged Carth. Jolee smirked, "Mission may be happy now but when she finds out she owes me a fiver…"

"From woot to poot indeed," Pol quoted the star of the day with a bemused smile for the affectionate couple.

Carth caught Bastila as she flew into his arms weightlessly. She held him fast for a moment squeezing him about the middle. As the feeling of jubilation subsided she relaxed her hold and looked up into his eyes. Deep rich and fathomless, he regarded her with undisguised desire. Before either of them could reconsider he kissed her, soundly. She responded and the world evaporated like moisture lost to the arid dunes of Tatooine.

Juhani shook her ponytail at the ex Jedi, "Jolee Bindo! You could have spared Bastila from Pol's influence." She chided. It was not as though they hadn't had practice at it.

Jolee gave a satisfied sniff, _good for them if they find a little happiness in these dark times._ "Can't fight nature, may as well try to de-cute a tach monkey, or invite a Krayt Dragon to a tea party" Jolee laughed.

Juhani wasn't buying it, "That was not entirely nature Jolee and you know it," she quipped, "you used their Force bond to win a bet!" she accused disapprovingly.

Jolee patted his bald bonce three times and stroked the remnants of his hair down towards his neck. "Hoo boy just as well I'm not a full time Jedi anymore!" Guiding her gaze with a carefully placed hand Jolee spun the Cathar to take in the romantic panorama, "Look girl, there's your nature," Jolee pointed to Carth and Bastila. "If it's all the Force bond then tell me, why are they still kissing?"

Not entirely satisfied with Jolee's errant behavior and weird rational Juhani Looked to Pol. Pol threw her hands up in defense, "What?" she laughed "All I did was hug a few people, and droids…I didn't tell her to snog him, jeesh." Gradually Pol rounded up the crew and they headed off with their new champion to collect Mission's winnings.

**Deep Space**

Less than an hour after Mission's record breaking swoop race the young woman made her way to the Czerka single men's housing complex to say farewell to Griff, who finally had the good sense to apologize to his sister. The meeting was brief and cool, but not hostile, they promised to stay in touch. Mission boarded the Hawk last, at twilight, two suns down and the last one on its way.

After the jump to hyperspace Pol approached Canderous. Aside from checking in on him before they left Tatooine, Pol had afforded him as much space as she could. Pajama clad she trod the steel floor barefoot to the swoop hanger. He was right where she had left him, polishing his weapons at the workbench.

"How you doing?" She asked quietly.

"I've been thinking about this thing with Jagi,"

Pol winced awaiting his response nervously, "And?"

"Things aren't the way they were for us, now the clans are scattered. Everything has changed, there is no order. Even something as simple as war, as pure as battle..."

"I think I know what you mean. All this sneaking about to get advantage, it's not like the old days of 'meet you on the field, your men versus mine.'"

"Exactly," He smiled. _I knew you'd understand me Champ._ "So what do you do when the rules change?" He asked. He was testing her.

Pol smiled, happily slipping into a familiar role: his star pupil. "You change tactics to suit."

He rewarded her with a smile that told her she had answered correctly. "I'm not the Mandalorian I once was, I'm not even the man I once was. The galaxy is changing, I have to adapt." He placed the blades upon the bench and wiped his hands. "I've been thinking about you too."

"Uh oh!" Pol giggled nervously, "don't tell me you've finally come to your senses _Mando'ad_? You've realized I'm crazy and now you want out?"

Canderous held her face in his hand and stared deep into her eyes. She had given him space, as requested, never taken more than was offered. She knew when to let things lie and when to push him. She was a challenge, she drove him to achieve, made him a better warrior, albeit one with a conscience. She had made him consider things he rather leave behind but he was stronger for it.

Pol happily admitted when she was wrong. He respected that. Despite her pride and obvious talent, she was an eager student and he had taught her a lot. She strove to improve herself. _No matter what they say, the fact that she sounds like a regular boma now rather than an enraged drunken one; is proof that I do her some good._

After an eternity he bought her left hand to his mouth possessively, turned it upward and kissed the palm. "What do you think?" He whispered. Brushing her hair aside with his fingers Canderous ran his thumb down the side of her face from her temple to her throat lightly. He could feel her pulse below the heel of his hand. She closed her eyes and he kissed her passionately.

When her eyes fluttered open she sparked a grin at the man before her. "Guess not?" She said laughing at the time it had taken for the conversation to progress. As quick as their banter could be it had always been paced with fecund fields of silence. It was as though they could go a day or a week without talking and not need to catch up.

Canderous looked to the dagger on the bench at his elbow. "You came through for me Pol with Jagi…That means a lot." _More than you know._

"Because I love you Canderous," Pol placed her hand on his chest adoringly; he held it there trapping it between his hand and his heart.

"And?" He asked with a wry grin, "what else?"

Pol rolled her eyes. "Alright, I admit I couldn't bear the thought of living without you."

"I knew it." He laughed and released her hand form its snare. She walked to their bed. He fingered the knife on the table thoughtfully as he watched her throw back the sheets. _I swore I'd do this…. _His hands faltered failing to execute the task, he sheathed the dagger in his boot. A tearing ache fused his mind to his heart; he closed his eyes and resolved to carry out the plan._ No backing out now._ After a moment he reached for the blade again his face grim. "Pol, there is something I have to do."

Pol didn't need the sixth sense of the Force to tell her Canderous was terrified, a blind Miraluka could see it. Before he could say another word and before she could offer him the comfort or support he seemed so desperately to require; the Ebon Hawks alarm shrieked. She tumbled out of bed as the ship shuddered from its course.

**All hell breaks loose.**

Canderous staggered against the workbench. "They're playing our song Champ." He shouted over the screeching and helped Pol to her feet. They ran to the cockpit where Carth was already desperately trying to knock their ship out of autopilot and escape the tractor beam that had seized the Hawk.

"I think they must have been waiting for us in the hyperspace route, we're stuck fast in their tractor beam, I can't get us out." Carth growled in frustration as he punched controls furiously.

Canderous took the co pilot seat "Fire on them!" He insisted grasping the controls.

"Look at the size of it!" Jolee waved at the view, "there's no contest!"

"Jolee is right, there is no point. It's the Leviathan…Saul Karath's vessel… my old mentor." Carth felt a hand on his shoulder, tidy nails and a single silver band encircling her thumb, it was Bastila's.

Unwaveringly she said, "We will face what we must, together."

Canderous continued to shout orders to the crew. "Like hell there's no point! Pol, Blue, get to the turrets, aim for the bridge, we may still be able to knock out their control centre!"

"C-note, there's no point, we're too close now. They have us." Mission pointed at the vista.

Canderous knew she was right. He rose from the co-pilot seat clenched fists and gritted teeth. _No fracking way does it end like this. _Pol touched his arm, her hands were cool and smooth, and the feeling settled him somewhat. He set his jaw, steeled his gut and looked at her.

"It's time to change tactics Chief," Pol calmed him with his own logic. "We need a plan… anyone got any good ones?" She looked about at the crew who were mesmerized by the spacecraft before them.

Mission spoke first, "They can't watch all of us…I'm good with locks, maybe if I hide I can come bust you out?"

Carth ran his hands through his hair, his brow creased into a deep furrow of fatigue and stress. "I know these men Mission. They're thorough they wont let any of us slip. Especially not the three of us," He indicated Bastila, Pol and himself, "Not knowing who we are."

Juhani's idea made the best sense. "What about a droid? They are less perceptible, in an overt way."

"HK would be perfect, he is self healing… well fixing." Pol patted her creation fondly, but with a healthy dose of fear behind her eyes.

"Proud statement: I am ready Master!"

She took a deep breath and gave the command, "Chief, Zaalbar throw him behind the blast door and lob in a grenade. HK when you get done repairing yourself come find us. Free us."

"Exultant query: Do I have permission to terminate at will?"

"Go nuts HK; just don't take any chances." Pol clarified the command in droid terms, "initiate discernment protocol, set parameters for success to 85 and get us out of there alive." Pol shivered as Zaalbar and Canderous escorted the excited assassin droid to the explosives store.

"I better get some clothes on before we dock." Pol held the hem of her silk night shift, it was better than the regulation Jedi sleepwear, in a loose dancing girl kind of way, but hardly the apparel of a hero.


	23. Chapter 23

**Interrogation Room – The Leviathan **

Carth had been dead right about Karath's men, they were thorough and they had special orders to take him in. Pol and Bastila were given the same red carpet capture treatment, a shot of sedative and a blast from a neural disruptor. When he awoke they were in force cages on either side of his. They had been singled out, the rest of the crew were no where to be seen.

He called to them both but only managed to rouse Pol with his voice. She got to her feet shaky and nauseas from the tranquilizers. "Are you ok Pol?"

Pol brushed her hair back from her face and went to straighten her clothing out of habit, only to find she had none. "Marvelous, I don't think I have ever felt this good. Except for that time I cut off my leg to win a one legged race...ugh. I'm in my underwear AGAIN." She groaned weakly and looked at Bastila.

"Your leg?" Carth puckered his brow at Pol. She was joking, clearly, but her timing was awful.

"I sewed it back on. At least from the scar I have it looks like I did. How are you doing little brother?" Pol looked at the scar on her upper thigh.

"I'd feel better if Bastila would wake. You can't tell how she is doing can you?" The hope died from his eyes as Pol pointed to the neural dampener that nullified their bond. They set to waiting it out.

Bastila had almost no desire to wake, knowing even in her unconscious state, the predicament that would present to her when did was going to be unpleasant. She fought the lassitude and woke last, gaining her feet shakily.

Carth urged her on, "C'mon Bastila, we have to face him standing, let's not give him the pleasure of seeing us cower." Her blue eyes seemed vacant he longed to hold her; the neural collar she had been fitted with cut her from the Force as he understood it. _It must be hell to be shut off when you are so used to it._ He rationalized her sadness and hated to see her this way. "Are you ok Bastila?"

"No." she answered quietly and slowly.

Pol shook the fog from her mind. Feeling like a third wheel she broke the enduring silence, "'Better to die on your feet than live life on your knees…' I read that on a 'fresher wall one time. Why are all the best lines graffiti?" Her hands went to the collar again. _Karath thinks he has left me with nothing; pfft Force-smorce I've worked with less._ "How long have we been out Carth?"

"I have no idea, but you've both been out of it a full cycle longer than me. I only hope the others are ok." By others Carth meant HK-47 though a lump caught in Pol's throat. She didn't know if she would ever see Canderous again.

She stopped herself from fretting; it was half the torture process. Separating the subject from its cohort was the first step in the instruction manual for mass interrogation. Revan reminded her that she had used it plenty of times and that all she had to do was endure.

"No matter what he does to us it is vital that we don't talk." Carth said with an anxious look to Bastila.

"Thank you little brother would never have guessed that." Pol growled out the acerbic comment Revan had implanted into her mind. She was shocked at her callousness, the second it was out.

Bastila shot her an angry tear stained look, and Pol fended it off with an excuse. "Sorry Carth, but we are all winning a war of nerves here. I didn't mean it. Bastila are you ok? If we get a chance do you think you could fight?"

"I don't think that I could fight my way out of a wet paper bag in the present state I am in. I will be alright, just don't forget whose side you are on." Bastila's voice was strained; she hung her head and breathed deeply trying to push the grief from her already burdened mind.

………….

The door slid open and Saul Karath marched in backed by a team of Sith troopers. Carth greeted him with venom, "Saul you bastard!"

"Still mad Carth?" The quiet man taunted his former student. "I only did what had to be done to show my support for Malak. You had your chance when I asked you to join us; do you remember? What kind of hero will this make you I wonder?" His hands moved to the controls that managed the power to the force cages.

Carth spat angrily, "You killed my wife, my son and you destroyed our world! Millions were lost because of your allegiance!"

"You are an evil man Admiral Karath" Bastila whispered and a single tear escaped her eye.

Saul looked at the Jedi, "You will find out just how evil if you do not answer my questions." He stated with cool authority.

"You're wasting your time Saul, we will never talk." Cath said staunchly. His posture backed up his claims, Saul could tell by his stance, and experience as an interrogator, that Carth would not be beaten by pain. He wondered if the same would be said about the pain of his companions.

"So this is Revan?" Karath stood in front of the force cage containing Pol.

She smirked at him, "That's Ms Valor to you sunshine." She quipped vehemently.

Saul laughed, "A bold one aren't you, Though I was expecting something more impressive. The rumors are true you have changed, and for the worst, they say you are insane, but Malak will be pleased to see you regardless."

Pol continued her charade hoping her insolence would catch him off guard and divert his attention from Bastila. "Great that bastard still has my copy of 'Bolger's Gutter Rhyme for halfwits'." she cracked her knuckles nonchalantly and gave their interrogator a wink.

Karath snorted dryly at her bravado and paced away from the cells. "Where is the Jedi Enclave?" He left the question open, not expecting any immediate answer, nor strictly needing one, but setting it free for any taker. The prisoners stayed silent. "Who shall I punish first?" He asked with a greedy smile.

"We will never talk!" Carth yelled valiantly.

"Ah Carth since you are so eager; you can be first. I must admit these torture booths have been overused in recent times. I wonder how long before you crack." Saul tweaked the controls sending a blinding charge through Carth's body.

The pilot shook and screamed as Karath increased the power with practiced discernment, his face devoid of emotion as his former colleague thrashed in pain. He watched the Jedi. Revan betrayed nothing but his torture of Carth had Bastila squirming_. A weakness to be exploited _he annotated his train of thought.

Admiral Karath powered down Carth's cell, before permanent damage could be done. "How are you feeling?" He asked conversationally pulling up a chair beside the dashboard of controls.

"Damn you Saul. You can give me your worst I won't talk," Carth spat blood and stood shakily, his arm folded across his stomach.

"How rude of me, it is supposed to be ladies first is it not?" Saul charged up the Jedi's cells and blasted them with electricity. Pol was grateful for the effect of the neural disruptor. Without the Force Bastila wouldn't have to endure a secondary surge of pain through their bond. The waves of searing agony coursed through her body. Distantly she could hear Saul interrogating Carth as he tortured them. Revan called to her a mental 'over here' directing her to a space in her mind that was comparatively free of pain. She holed up with the ghosts of her past to wait out the torment.

Carth looked on in horror at the Jedi, their twisted eyes bulging with the electric ache that besieged them. "No! NO! I'll never talk; no matter what you do to them I won't betray the Republic!"

"Very well. Ladies, how do you feel? Better? Perhaps one of you would like to tell me where the Enclave is?" Saul resumed his walk and talk, pacing the killing room floor deliberately. "Nothing dear Bastila?" He paused by her cage.

Bastila shook her head. She looked a broken woman, her hair in rags about her elegant face. "You are wasting your time Karath, none of us will talk." She said in a low voice.

Karath paced back to Pol's cell, "What about you Revan? Feeling chatty?"

"I'll let you know," Pol drooled blood and grinned manically. "Meanwhile hit me again," she dared.

Saul obliged; he took a seat again and isolated her cell for torture. As the ex Sith lord writhed in agony, Saul spoke at length to her companions. "I feel I should be honest with you as there is a scarcity of candor at this point in time;" he folded his arms across his chest and sighed capriciously. "You see it has been weighing on my conscience. I already know where the Jedi academy is. Or was…" He smiled quietly gauging their reactions.

"You're lying!" Carth shouted.

"It's true, Carth. I felt it… before they captured us." Bastila shed another tear. The reason for her quiet since docking had been exposed. She looked away from Pol, who was still being torn apart by the electric pulse of her cell and faced Karath boldly. "Where's my hit you wretched pansy!" She asked angrily.

"Bastila no!" Carth yelled.

Saul sighed, "Ah see now you've gone and put me in quite a spot. You all want to be punished. What a conundrum. I don't have enough power to run all three cells at one time. And you Bastila… My instructions were to keep you in one piece, but now you've made me quite cross." His fingers flicked the switch, driving a savage current through Bastila's body.

"Stop this you monster!" Carth yelled; he could see Pol failing, she had been blasted by the energy field for far too long. Bastila was wracked by the pain, but Pol was suffering the worst of it.

"Oh no, not now Carth; You see now I'm just playing. And Malak wants Revan dead or alive, so it really is all the same to me." Saul Karath broke into a maniacal laugh and directed more power to Pol's cell, increasing the voltage until blood welled in her eyes, blinding her.

As the pain encroached on the borders of her mental refuge, Revan departed leaving Pol alone. With no psychological space left to hide from the pain and no way of denying the damage it was inflicting physically Pol surrendered to it. She welcomed the last bastion of the beleaguered and lost consciousness.

**Holding Cells **

The lights flickered as the power to their wing was drained by Saul's torture devices. Juhani held a vigil for the survivors of Dantooine; she had felt some resistance had been given in the surprise attack. Now she prayed for the Jedi remnant; leaving Jolee with the unenviable task of calming Canderous.

Mission trembled, in the Wookiee's arms and tried to hold down her last meal. Zaalbar comforted her, trying to block her view of the rampaging Mandalorian with his shaggy bulk.

"Canderous just sit down," Jolee held his hands together in a reverential gesture of peace, "this achieves nothing. Please you are scaring Mission." Canderous looked at the ex Jedi with distaste. Jolee struggled on, "What would Pol want you to do?"

"That's a cheap shot old man." Canderous turned his back on the crew, and faced the purple energy shield that confined them to their shared cell. It flickered slightly, pulsating with the power drain he knew to be responsible for the torture of his woman.

_The fluctuations are enough to weaken the field, but not enough to shut it down._ The Mandalorian wondered, if he timed their attack right, whether he and the wookiee could bust it open. Their burns would be severe but the rest of the crew might be able to get away. _Mandalore's balls._ _I should have ended this when I had the chance, we shouldn't be here now_. _If that droid comes through_ _I'll kill every last one of them. _

**Droid Bay**

HK-47 online: Run diagnostic. Results functionality/ 67. Run auto repair. Completed, time elapsed 43 minutes. Scanning vicinity: No organic life forms detected. Artificial intelligence detected. Hypothesis: location, droid bay. Startled recognition: Astromech unit T3-M4 the contemptible can-opener is operational.

Actuating vocabulator: "Derisive command: Move it shorty, the Master needs us."

Aural sensors report T3: "Boopee dwoo"

Actuating vocabulator: "Unnecessary threat: I don't care how you 'feel' disable the security door or I will blast you a new storage compartment."

Aural sensors report T3: "Beep! Whirr dee beep!"

Actuating vocabulator: "Begrudging approval: That's better."

………….

HK- 47: location: Barracks: Scanning, scan completed: Results: Life forms detected. 7 meatbags status: Hostile. Course of action: Gleeful gratuitous terminations. Objective 1: Procure weaponry for self and obtuse T3 unit. Objective 2. Employ weaponry to eradicate remaining meatbags. Objective 3. Locate and free the Master and meatbag companions.

Actuating vocabulator: "Eager bluff: kneel and heel or you'll feel real durasteel through your last digested meal meatbags!"

Aural sensors report T3:"Beep glee beep doo!"

Commencing eradication: Target found. Target status: Annihilated.

Target found. Target status: Terminated by T3 unit.

Actuating vocabulator: "Irritated declaration: Find your own targets Bothan gum-dispenser."

Target found. Target status: Dismembered. Result Satisfactory.

Target found. Target status: Running from HK unit. Course of action: follow and snuff the meatbag before it calls for backup. Update target status: Target terminated. Goal achieved.

Actuating Vocabulator: "Delighted announcement: Yippee!"

Target found: target status: Attacking T3 unit. Course of action: assist T3 unit /resentful inner cognition/. Target status: Eviscerated.

Target found: Target status: Disarmed by Hk-47: Course of action: Turn Aratech Heavy Repeating Blaster Rifle Mark III against its former meatbag owner.

Approach T3 unit offer blaster pistol to accomplice /overrides/ Playback: "HK what did I say about bullying T3? Play nice ok?" End playback. Amendment: Offer blaster pistol to T3 unit without malicious intent. Course of action: Cancel threat of deactivation.

Objective 1 accomplished. Resuming eradication. Target found: Target status: Attempting communications with HK-47. Aural sensor report: Subject is begging for life.

Actuating vocabulator: "Insincere apology: You should have thought of that before you interfered with the Master! Gleeful declaration: Die meatbag!"

Eradication complete. Time elapsed 4 minutes 32 seconds. Accuracy: 97. Satisfaction rating: 9 out of 10. Theory: the T3 unit is to blame for the inaccuracy. Course of action: Resent T3 unit - to the power of / 88

…………………..

Actuating vocabulator: "Query: Have you acquired the access codes yet?"

Aural sensors report T3: "Beep dee dip bip."

Learning protocol initiated: Course of action: Scan record and amend estimation of T3 Unit. Goal: lower resentment factor by 3. Resentment factor reset to /85

Actuating vocabulator: "Pleased acknowledgement: It seems you serve a purpose after all lunchbox!"

Aural sensors report T3: "Beep dwoo Frotz"

Actuating vocabulator: "Placating qualification: Well there's no need to be nasty."

Aural sensors report T3: "Beep weeee!"

Scan: results access to cell block attained. Scan: Life forms detected pleasing observation: It's the Masters companions:

**Pattern recognition**. Female Twi'lek/ designation: Mission Vao. Overrides, MAN OFF

**Protocol**: Protect.

**Classification:** Scoundrel, and a favorite of the Master.

**Estimation**: Mostly harmless, prone to irritating sonic outbursts, suspicion responsible for attaching wad of gum to chassis, whilst HK unit was offline. The cunning little meathag Cheats in Pazaak. Resentment factor/ .6 . Respect factor/ 45

**Status**: Uninjured. Is the source of irritating sonic disturbance associated with happiness?

**Speculative theory**: She is pleased to see me.

**Pattern recognition: **Female Cathar/ designation: Juhani. Overrides, MAN OFF

**Protocol**: Protect.

**Classification**: Jedi, the Masters ethereal physician.

**Estimation**: Deadly, threats of deactivation against HK unit 4, the Cathar meathag is responsible for the Masters mental health regime. Resentment factor/ 33 Respect factor/ 25

**Status**: Uninjured.

**Pattern recognition**. Male Wookiee/ designation: Zaalbar. Overrides, MAN OFF

**Course of action**: Added to safe list.

**Classification: **The Master's mammalian counterpart – Companion by Wookiee Life Debt.

**Estimation:** Valued and obedient companion to the Master. The wookiee is a capable technician. Resentment factor/ nil. Respect factor/ 30

**Status**: Hirsute and odorous; otherwise uninjured.

**Pattern recognition**. Male Human/ designation: Jolee Bindo. Overrides, MAN OFF

**Course of action:** Added to safe list.

**Classification:** Jedi /overrides/ Playback "ex Jedi sonny!" End playback. Amendment Ex Jedi. Cantankerous coot; meatbag companion of the master.

**Estimation:** Deadly, threats of deactivation against HK unit 1. Kill count since first contact 5. Resentment factor/ 21. Respect factor/ 12

**Status**: Arthritic, otherwise uninjured.

**Pattern recognition**. Male Mandalorian/ designation: Canderous Ordo. Overrides, MAN OFF

**Course of action:** Begrudgingly added to safe list. /EMERGENCY OVERRIDES/ Playback: "Objection: _Master, I don't like this new Override. Query: is it really necessary_?"

Aural sensors report The Master: "HK, if I'm not around, you answer to him. No belligerence either, between his cybernetic implant and your auto repair functions, it wouldn't end quickly."

"_Graphic reassurance: It would end quickly if I barbequed him Master_."

Aural sensors report The Master: "HK, just add the damn override or I'll _hardwire_ it in." End playback.

**Classification:** Warrior, war veteran. The Master's favorite. Kills frequently and with finesse.

**Estimation:** Deadly, threats of deactivation against HK unit 17. Threats of damage to HK unit 47. Kill count since first contact 29. Resentment factor/ 98 Respect factor/ 98

**Status:** Uninjured. Provisional Master during emergency procedure.

Aural sensors report Mission Vao: "T3! HK! Man are we glad to see you!"

Run EMERGENCY PROTOCOL. Actuate Vocabulator: "Proud declaration: I had guessed as much. Query: Master Ordo" /resentful inner cogitation "- What are your orders?"

**Leviathan Rescue**

Canderous delegated tasks without question, "Blue, Z, Jolee head back to the Hawk. Blue – knock out the security, Jolee - prep the Hawk, Z - kill stuff. Juhani take T3 - search the Starboard wing, HK we'll do a sweep portside."

"Understood," Juhani nodded and departed with the astromech droid.

"HK come with me, the rest of you get going." Canderous pushed them to action.

Zaalbar groaned, (I'm going with Canderous.)

"What did he say?" Canderous looked at the recalcitrant wookiee.

Mission beat HK to the translation. "He says he's going with you C-note I wouldn't try to change his mind if I were you."

Canderous sized up the wookiee and took her advice. "Bah, lets go then." The team split and went about their tasks.

"HK shoot to kill on sight," Canderous commanded as he led HK and Zaalbar down the hall out of the prison block.

(When we find Pol I will tear limbs from her captors) Zaalbar roared angrily.

"Z, I got no idea what you just said, but do it a lot and to anyone we find. Let's start with these guys." The Mandalorian set upon the first guard and seized him from behind. He grasped the Sith troopers rifle and thrust it upwards his victims chin. With a single shot to the head the trooped ceased his struggles leaving Canderous with a shiny new gun. He kicked the corpse aside and checked his companion's progress.

The assassin droid had dispatched a second trooper and Zaalbar, a one wookiee army, had the third in a headlock. The wookiee beat the man to the deck and crushed his chest cavity with a blow from his foot. The trooper died to the bubbling sound of blood filled lungs being pierced by snapping bone. Canderous admired the speed at which the end was achieved but viewed the mess with contempt.

"HK give Zaalbar your rifle, don't sulk, I want you to fry the next lot anyways."

"Delighted acknowledgement: With pleasure Master Ordo." HK surrendered his weapon to Zaalbar, who was relieved not to have to use his claws in battle.

When they burst into the next room HK spewed forth a stream of fire from his wrist singing and blinding the five men therein. Canderous and Zaalbar stood shoulder to shoulder behind the droid mowing down the Sith troopers with a spray of heavy blaster fire. When the room was cleared Canderous searched the corpse of a commander, claiming his slightly melted keycard, radiation shields and a schematic of the level. He threw one shield towards Zaalbar who caught it deftly and enabled it as he dragged the last of the bodies out of view.

(That worked well.) Zaalbar said referring to the roast and plug technique they had just employed. HK translated for Canderous who was studying the map he had found.

"Yeah. We need to go right at the end of this next corridor. Get moving!" The trio was halfway down the hall when Canderous was paged on his comlink. It's beeping alerted a guard who came running about the bend, only to be clothes-lined by Zaalbar.

"Eager Plea: May I shoot him?" If HK was human he would have been jumping from foot to foot in excitement. Fortunately HK wasn't human, because in human years he would have been the equivalent of a homicidal 4 year old.

Canderous ignored the droid and answered the call "Yeah," he said as a pixilated rendition of Juhani streaked into view.

In that same instant, HK slew the unarmed guard with disruptor fire, intentionally misreading Canderous's 'Yeah' to Juhani as permission to kill. Zaalbar couldn't be certain as his ears were still ringing from the blasts from the droids freshly acquired disruptor rifle but it seemed to the wookiee that the red droid had given a distinctly evil cackle as the man died. Canderous didn't seem to have noticed so Zaalbar dismissed the notion.

(I can't believe Pol built you.) He said as he shoved the cadaver out of the passageway. With a delicate curl of his great arm Zaalbar tossed it into the room they had just cleared.

"Incredulous observation: I can't believe the Master tamed_ you_."

"Pack it in fellas'; I'm trying to talk to Juhani."

"They are not here but I have recovered our weapons. Shall I join you?" Juhani asked with her heavy Cathar accent.

"We' got it under control I'm nearly at the detainment center now; head back to the Hawk, make sure the other two are ok. Out." Canderous put away the personal communicator and motioned for his company to follow. "What the frack was that about? Just keep a lid on it and remember who the enemy is here." _Amateurs. _


	24. Chapter 24

Claiming the end of the hall was more difficult than they had imagined it would be. A Dark Jedi stepped neatly into the passageway. "Ah crap." Canderous reached for the vibroblade he had borrowed, without intention of return, from a corpse. It was a medium weight rig, blocky and cheaply forged.

They faced off in the narrow end of the corridor. The Sith's red lightsaber sparking against the Mandalorian's cheap blade. After three consecutive parries that bought the two weapons together vigorously, his blade broke scarping his arm as it flew past.

"Give up old man, you are no match for the Sith," Hissed the Dark Jedi. He whirled his lightsaber in an elaborate design above his head and drew upon the Force. Before he could release the energy, drained from the life around him and turn it against his opponent, Canderous knifed him in the gut with the broken blade.

"Idiot. HK finish him." Canderous looted the corpse pocketing the lightsabers for Pol and Bastila.

**Interrogation Room**

"Can you hear that? That has to be them Bastila!"

"It's definitely battle, but the outcome…" She let her head fall to her hands again. Every time she looked at Pol, and her broken body, she felt that all was lost.

"She will be ok, we have to keep our spirits up, I'm sorry about Dantooine Bastila, and watching that bastard torture you… I only with I could have done something to stop it."

Panic struck the Jedi, "We did what we had to Carth, but Pol… I can't feel her Carth, the neural disruptor… I can't tell if she's breathing."

"Well she is! Ok? She is. You just have to trust me." Carth was beginning to lose his patience; to his dismay Bastila seemed to crumble by the hour. _No doubt it's the loss of Dantooine. So many worlds, I'll get you Saul._

"Why does she have to be so willful?" Bastila shivered and tried to negate the tenderness of her joints by clutching at them.

"Well she wasn't the only one; you both got it worse than me." Carth was overcome by the urge to hold Bastila again, to comfort her through the pain she was surely suffering. _What a pair, both brave, both foolish._

The door slid open and a blood soaked Mandalorian stepped through. _Never thought I'd be so happy to see a bloody Mandalorian _Carth thought incredulously, "Canderous! Get us out of here; we have to get the collar off of Bastila so she can heal Pol, I'm afraid she got the worst of it."

Canderous surveyed the scene rapidly his eyes locked onto Pol's limp form. Zaalbar shut the power down to the force cells and helped Carth to free Bastila while Canderous checked Pol's vital signs. "She's still kicking, but badly hurt, you can fix this right?" He asked. _You better. _

With the neural collar removed, Bastila opened herself to the Force and with it came Pol's pain. Bastila cried out in shock and staggered almost falling to her knees. Carth supported her helping her to stand. Drawing more heavily on the Force than was strictly safe, Bastila managed to heal Pol and herself, bringing the older woman to consciousness.

"Chief," Pol whispered and smiled slightly at the face above hers.

"You ok Pol?" He asked, "Maybe you should heal yourself some more…" He held her cold hand in his and ran his thumb over it soothingly, hoping to spark more life into her cold flesh.

"Do I look that bad? Ugh don't answer that, just give me a sword and push me in Malak's direction." Pol found speaking an onerous task; she choked dryly on the air itself. Her lungs had been singed quite badly by her encounter and her chest was aflame.

She took his advice and applied a little Force healing to herself as their companions rallied. Carth located their clothing in a Plasteel container; their weapons were not amongst the pile. He handed out the garments and they dressed preparing to fight their way out with the weapons HK had landed.

"Why is it whenever I get to see you in your underwear, its cuz something bad has just happened," Canderous complained as he helped Pol into her shirt.

"That's just the crazy life we lead." Pol joked stuffing her foot hurriedly into a boot. She equipped the Sith lightsaber Canderous had scavenged for her, tied back her hair and was ready for action.

Realizing that they expected her to lead, Bastila blinked twice and gave out instructions. "Carth, Canderous, Zaalbar take HK and head back to the ship, Malak's docking as we speak we have to get out of here."

Realizing two elements were absent from the equation the Mandalorian spoke up, "Where are you two going?" Canderous demanded. Carth stood beside him; his expression was a mirror image of irritated disbelief.

"To the bridge to shut off the tractor beam so we can leave." Pol answered giving her beau an apologetic smile. The Mandalorian's frown deepened. _I really didn't expect that to work_, she told herself recognizing the determined set to her man's jaw.

Carth fumed along side of him. "No way; not alone you're not. I'm going to kill Saul Karath if it's the last thing I do," he steamed.

"Get in line Republic!" Canderous roared and crossed his arms. He stood immovably in the doorway. Zaalbar had beaten a hasty retreat to fulfill Bastila's orders at the onset of human hostilities, HK had gone with him.

Carth whirled to face the Mandalorian with pure hatred and bloody resolve steaming off him. "He may have hurt your woman Canderous, but he killed mine!"

The Mandalorian's eyebrows shot up. "I didn't know that. Fine he's yours," Canderous backed down, but under his breath he muttered "…Unless I see him first."

"Malak is here." Pol reminded them.

**The Bridge**

They beat a path to the bridge; it was a vast blue lit chamber that flickered with light from terminals and control panels that lined the flight deck. Saul awaited them flanked by 30 soldiers. "You are outnumbered, surrender your new Master comes for you, Jedi." Saul Karath motioned to his troops, and they readied their arsenal awaiting his word.

Before Pol could utter an astute rejoinder, Bastila came to her defense.

"Give up Saul, the Force fights with us, you can not win!" The diminutive Jedi ignited her saber, like Pol's it was a loaner; and red at that.

"You'll pay for your betrayal Saul!" Carth ended the stand off by gunning for Admiral Karath. Summoning the Force Pol leapt into the fray saber flaring as it met the flesh and energy shields of the Sith that surrounded her.

She lost track of her companions as she fought to slay as many Sith as she could; desperate to provide respite for her allies. The Sith swarmed about her keen to take Revan's life and the prestige it would afford them. Pol knew there would be countless more aboard Malak's starcraft; _I only hope they wont show too soon. Some one get that tractor field disabled!_

Canderous slashed at the Sith teeming about Pol, their single-minded distraction appalled him. He took their lives with ease. _No honor in this fight_, he lamented as he cut them down from behind.

Pol fought harder as the Sith piled up on her. They seemed limitless in number. Frantic for legroom she cast a wave of the Force knocking them back; she caught a glimpse of Canderous at the edge of the mob, staggering under the tail end of the Force wave. _Sorry Chief._ There was no time to ensure his safety, Pol fought on, deflecting blaster fire away from the last position he had occupied.

Carth's shield began to fail, scores of blaster shots broke the connection and it dissipated subjecting him to Saul's return fire. It took several bursts of rapid fire for Carth to get behind Saul's shield, but it eventually fell. _Look the bastard in the eye and make all his worst dreams come true._ Carth took aim and sent a power blast through Karath's skull. As Saul's near decapitated corpse thudded to the deck; a second wave of Sith troopers arrived on the scene fresh and ready for battle.

They fired on the pilot. Though he was near perforated by the shots; Carth disregarded his wounds and bravely fought his way to Bastila. A Dark Jedi descended on him halting his progress half the room's length from his destination.

He looked to the pistol in his hand. Knowing he didn't stand a chance without a vibrosword, Carth faced his doom. The Sith smiled wickedly and with a broad swoop of his lightsaber he hamstringed the Republic soldier, shoved him to the floor, and strode on to his next target.

Bastila fought her way to the command centre aiming to shut off the tractor beam, as she fended off attacks from the enemy troopers. Between death blows she tried to locate her friends in the swarm.

The Mandalorian sprang to his feet, gutting a trooper as he rose. Whilst hefting the corpse off the end of the Sith blade that he had obtained in the fight, he saw Carth fall. _If I don't move fast they'll be on him in seconds. Don't move Republic, play dead, I'm coming._

Canderous picked his way over the corpses, fortunate for the distraction the Jedi posed, but displeased by it. The majority of the troops surrounded Pol, who was managing the mass, dealing death like a tempestuous reaper. Bastila held a corner defending the console that restricted the Ebon Hawk's escape.

Carth felt strong hands grasp him under his arms; without effort he was unceremoniously dragged from the battleground. His boot caught on a dropped vibroblade. Carth fixed his gaze upon it trying not to lose consciousness. It tangled up in his cuff and moved with him a distance, detaching as it connected with the doorframe. Moisture soaked through his trousers and he looked blearily at the path of blood that marked his passing. At last he was lowered gently to the deck. He heard the Mandalorian's voice, but failed to comprehend it. "_Udesii ner' vod_, rest easy my brother." Canderous stood a short distance from his fallen comrade, and beat back the latest onslaught of Sith.

**Malak**

Bastila surveyed the dead about her; Pol was crouched over Saul Karath's corpse emptying his pockets hurriedly. She looked up at Bastila and answered the query in the Jedi's eyes, "For Carth."

"You should not reward, nor encourage his vengeful streak Pol…"

"Leads to the darkside, I know...but he's no Jedi and nor am I. Where is he anyways?" Pol pocketed the items.

"Man down!" Canderous shouted across the room. The women raced to the refuge Canderous had been defending. Horror played cruel games with Bastila's wits as she estimated the amount of blood that Carth had lost. Without delay she opened herself to the Force. The effort of the healing drained her resources to their end. _That's twice in one day…_Exhaustedly she examined her work, the scar would endure but the wound was closed.

"The beam is down," Bastila said helping Carth to his feet, "let's get to the ship. Pol where are you going?"

"To kill Malak," Her reply was icy, as she marched towards the door. Somewhere between the torture and the latest crisis Revan had taken up residence.

Bastila sickened at the feeling of a vague taint in their bond. It was no worse than it had ever been, over all Revan's alignment had improved. But this vengeful slaying was all it needed to bring Revan back down and Pol with her _and me._

Bastila choked. "Pol wait, I drained the last of my Force powers healing Carth, you can't face him alone." Bastila wailed releasing Carth. The blood loss was evident in his pallor, but he held his ground limply.

"She isn't," Canderous growled, waving his sword. He stomped after Revan faithfully.

_See things can always get worse Padawan Shan; the former Sith lord has a Mandalorian accomplice_. "Pol, no!" Bastila left Carth's side grabbing at the woman's sleeve. _Doesn't she see that we will all fall? Why can't I reach Pol? Revan is blocking her…. Or she doesn't want to be found._ "Pol, please you can't do this, not for those reasons."

"Give it up Bastila. I got a date with a Sith lord." Pol knew Revan had assumed the leadership. Revan's rage swamped Pol's mind, she almost lost her identity within it. She moved Pol like a marionette.

"Make that a double," Canderous added matching her pace.

The door slid open before they reached it. Malak's silhouette filled the doorframe, red Duraflex armor draped with black robes. He strode leisurely into the room; like an archfiend slowed by tranquilizers. His voice rasped mechanically though the metal plate that replaced his lower jaw.

"So we meet again my old Master." He intoned demonically, as he lit his lightsaber. Its radiant light burnt with a tortured orange glow.

Revan commandeered Pol's voice. "It's time for your dirt-nap apprentice." She sneered igniting the red Sith saber.

Malak belted her companions to the background with a Force fueled sweep of his hand. He cocked a finger and motioned for her to come forward and face him. Pol trod the boards like a dancer, and their blades met with a crack and hiss of energy.

They fought conventionally at first, battling her red lightsaber, to his orange. Parrying and strafing, she wrestled Malak back to the door. He called her on; luring her away from her incapacitated friends.

…………………

Canderous vaulted to his feet and ran for the door, Bastila and Carth hot on his heels. They were met with the scene of a heated and now bloody battle. Both combatants were bleeding, though neither seemed slowed by their injuries. The duel had become less orthodox, due to equity of their match. Every violent attempt was met with a close call.

"You have grown weak my old Master," Malak goaded, "I will show you the true strength of the Force!" He grasped the air in front of his face clenching his fist as he attempted to apply a Force crush to Revan's neck.

She resisted it, killing the charged air with the wave of her hand. "Weak? Like firing on your Master's ship while she is otherwise occupied weak?" Revan spat callously as she bent to a fighting stance.

Driven by wanton rage and bloodlust Revan made an almighty thrust in Malak's direction. He was ready for her, leaping from her range with just millimeters to spare. Closing the gap again as she reeled from her misplaced thrust, Malak swung at her. His fist connected with her face solidly; they collided with a satisfying wet crack.

He gave his hand a shake and stepped backwards returning to a dueling form, both hands upon the hilt of his saber. Revan spat blood to the floor and released the lightsaber from her hand. It spun towards Malak catching his chest and tearing it open in a red weal. _Not deep enough._ She judged, but it had caught him off guard.

She followed it up with a burst of dark energy intended to knock him to his knees. Malak countered it canceling the channel with a raised palm. Her companions had recovered and were approaching. Malak raised his arms above his head and showered them all with a cascade of Force lightening.

Bastila had regained enough energy to resist the electrocution, but not nearly enough to shield the others. Revan resisted on her own and continued to bawl with the Sith lord answering his every vehement action with one of her own, including verbal.

"True strength lies on the dark path Revan; you will never defeat me!"

……….

"Don't listen to him Pol!" Bastila cried staggering to her feet.

Pol heard her and summoned her last ounce of resolve. She shoved Revan from her mind, before her alter ego could attempt to drain the life from Malak. _I can't let Bastila down. I have to defeat him, but not this way._

"Keep talking you, spineless, hairless, jawless freak!" Pol yelled. As she seized control of herself once more, Revan shrieked in unintelligible rage at the back of her mind.

With a graceful sweep of her saber Pol struck a blow that by rights should have taken Malak's head clean off, but was hampered by the metal plate dividing the Sith lords face.

Malak laughed touching the ruins of his lower face. He could see the humanity had been restored to Revan, the darkness and all its power had left her, a sure sign she would break soon. He lashed out at her and their whirring blades met angrily. Seizing the opportunity he mimicked her personal technique feigning to the left and striking through her right thigh.

Pol lost balance for an instant, as Malak's lightsaber gave her upper leg a scar identical to the one on the other side. Bastila spun past her engaging Malak in battle before Pol could recover her stance. Carth and Canderous lay limply to the wayside where Malak's electrical strike had crippled them.

Pol healed them and herself as best she could manage with no time to spare, burning up the last of her ethereal resources.

Bastila let herself be lead backwards by Malak as they dueled; Pol noticed he had lured the Jedi to the edge of the room, as he had done with her. The ice melted in her gut, as she was struck with a premonition.

The Jedi called over her shoulder as they passed the threshold of the blast door, "Go! Get to the ship I'll hold Him off!" Malak slammed it shut behind them. His manic laughter could be heard echoing against the durasteel.

"NO! Bastila!" Carth yelled, throwing himself bodily at the magnetically sealed door, he scrabbled in a futile attempt to wrench it open.

Canderous held Pol tightly. He stared at the door, and the possessed man trying like hell to bust it down. When at last Carth ceased his impassioned exertions the Mandalorian said, "Let's go," and lead them back to the ship.

**Ebon Hawk**

Carth sat like an unwell shell of himself. He was morosely silent in the copilot's seat. He had been so unwilling to accept the loss of Bastila; to leave the Leviathan that Canderous had been obliged to pilot the ship.

Both soldiers were wrung out by fatigue and pumped full of stamina boosting stimulants as they made the leap to hyperspace.

The Mandalorian regarded his comrade with pity and a haunted respect. _No man should ever have to go through that, let alone twice._ He spoke clearly weighting each word with a measure of new respect, contributing his frame of mind to the stims, "We will get her back Carth."

The pilot nodded emptily; in his hand he held a Republic medal. His revenge was complete but Bastila was gone. He wondered why Saul had even kept the medallion, and where Bastila was. There was no grinding anger left to drive him, just an absence. Bolstered by the adrenal stimulants he was ready for anything, but he had nothing left to fight for.

**Med Bay**

"I can't feel her." Pol broke down, and tears spilled down her cheeks. She sat on the gurney, her arms hugged about her legs and her teeth to her knees weeping like a child.

Juhani examined Pol's aura sucking in her breath through her teeth as she gaped in astonishment and grief. The clean tendril of the bond that had joined her to Bastila, like a spidery strand, was gone. It had been severed; there was no trace of Bastila's influence over the woman.

"It has been cut." Juhani announced. She hung her head in sorrow. Her hand flew to her forehead, fingertips trying to smooth the furrowing of her brow as she suppressed the tears.

"Malak did this?" Jolee asked. He had no immunity against the suffering of others and anguish in the room; with a heavy heart he rubbed Pol's back soothingly.

"Bastila did, she is the only one who can." Pol sniffed trying to regain a semblance of composure. "She is the one who created it; she forged the bond to spare my life."

"But why cut it?" Jolee asked.

"So that if Bastila falls to the darkside; she won't take me down as well." Pol whispered, _like I almost did to her_, wringing the last of the tears out of her eye sockets with the heels of her hands. _I have to do this my way, I can't let Revan lead, that's not me anymore._

"Then we have been given a fighting chance, we have to find the Star Forge." Jolee marveled at Bastila's bravery, integrity and foresight. _Good kid that one, damn shame to lose her this way._

**Garage**

The Mandalorian crouched, head bowed over his dagger, contemplating its origins. _I nearly lost her. _He could hear her footsteps padding down the corridor from the refresher. _She's going to come in here all girly and tempting and what am I doing? Staring at a fracking knife, the timing is atrocious. _He rolled his eyes and shoved the blade angrily back into the boot.

_Snap out of it Ordo._ Canderous folded his shirt, setting it out by his boots. "That was some fight, I'm aching all over. You ok Champ?" He asked jovially, _no point adding to the sulk-fest. Besides, fracking glad Pol made it out ok_.

She entered the Garage like a rogue pixie in emerald silks. Pol had also given herself a talking to while she showered and was determined not to fall prey to pessimism_. I can't think about Bastila, not if we are to succeed._

"Suspenders," Pol replied out of context. She lifted the lacy fringe of her nightie an inch and stared at the two scars that decorated her thighs. Coincidentally they were both from Malak "They look like suspenders; I'm a war torn freak." She smiled a little, laughing at herself.

"Let me see." Canderous ran a hand over her leg, letting it linger and taking his time to reach the new scar. His calloused fingers snagged at the tender red weal painfully and Pol fought the urge to wince. "You're still gorgeous. Come show me again when you have a few more battle's under your belt. I'll decide if you're war torn." His hands encircled her waist, the silk of her nightgown shifted almost supernaturally below his hands, as he caressed her. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. _So glad we didn't die there._

Pol ran her hands over his bare chest, her fingers stopping at a tattoo. "What do all these mean?" She tapped a tattoo twice and looked up into his grey eyes.

"You asking me for a bed time story?"

"Hell yes. If you recall we were about to go to bed couple of days ago when they started playing our song. We haven't slept in days, I'm done in," Pol sagged against him.

Canderous held her upright, lest she slip to the floor, which she was threatening to do. Pol relaxed further when it was clear he had a hold of her, immaturely leaving her full dead weight for him to bear.

His muscles protested, already beyond tired they were overtaxed, and he was tempted to let her fall. _It would teach her a lesson… _As amusing as he found the idea, he finally resorted to asking her nicely."Pol stand up. _Gedet'ye;_ Baby I'm tired."

There was a deep resonance of exhaustion in his voice. Empathetic to his weariness Pol extracted herself from his arms. "Sorry," she smiled and laughed suddenly her quirky demeanor made sillier by fatigue. "I can't believe you just said that." She shook her head at the Mandalorian and threw back the covers on their bed.

"Said what?" He sighed and yawned; his eyes tracing her figure as she slipped between the sheets. _If I ever get too tired to look at that I hope they shoot me._

"In one sentence you said 'please'. And you called me 'Baby'," Pol giggled as she batted the pillow she never used to one side.

"Woman, if you're done cackling at my expense, I am tired and I would like some sleep." Canderous approached the bed wearily. "I would kill for a real bed about now." He admitted.

"No story?" Pol rolled onto her elbow and watched the Mandalorian as he lay beside her.

"No story, get over here." He ordered grumpily flinging a questing arm in her direction. "You nearly died back there Pol." Pol obeyed the arm and cuddled up.

She laid her head on his shoulder, lifted it, kissed his bicep and lowered it again. In an idiotic singsong voice she said "Sooo-rry"

"You're a fracking nutcase," He accused, gracing the shadows with a somnolent grin.

"Yeah-yeah you love me." Pol snuggled against him and closed her eyes. Using his muscle as her bed frame, sleep embraced her without delay.

"Yeah," He whispered then bade her good night in Mando'a,_ "Udesiir_ _ibic ca_ _ad'ika_." As the words fell from his lips the warrior succumbed to a dreamless sleep.


	25. Chapter 25

**On a Mission**

Mission Vao had decided to cheer up the crew. She had kept her self busy all morning with the task flitting from one part of the Hawk to the other like a happy blue hurricane. She sang for Jolee, made Zaalbar a sandwich, and braided Juhani's hair. She labored over a friendship band for Pol that she crafted from wiring that she'd stripped from some spare parts. She had even spent an hour telling Carth her best jokes, though he had claimed that he didn't want to hear them, until he smiled. Now it was the Mandalorian's turn.

She found him studying a galaxy map in the communications room. His broad shoulders slumped a little and his grey head cocked in interest at the interstellar systems he examined. Canderous shifted his weight slightly as she entered the room, he had heard her passage down the hall, but was surprised, and alarmed, that she been coming to see him. _Blue, hmm now what does she want with me?_

"Hey C-note, I can touch my nose with my tongue! Wanna see?"

His firm reply was a resounding negative. "No." He said evenly, not bothering to look.

"I can turn my eyelids inside out too!" Mission fiddled with her eyelids for a moment and turned to face him, "see?" she said capering into his line of sight.

He caught a glimpse of the extraordinary feat and turned his head away with a revolted scowl, "Blue that's disgusting!" He exclaimed barely containing his amusement, as he waved her away.

……..

Pol switched on her stealth unit and slunk into the room. The Mission Vao show was in full flight. _I love you Mission_, she said silently and reached for Canderous's boot knife.

He knew she was there, and even contemplated letting her succeed. _If she takes the damn thing it could save me a world of trouble and heartache._ Her fingers touched the leather of his boot and he thought better of it. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing Pol."

"Huh?" Mission looked about the room crazily, her lekku flipping over her shoulders as she twirled about. She reordered her eyelids and laughed as Pol's stealth field collapsed and she buzzed into view.

"Ah crap. I'm never going to get this thing am I?" Pol asked with a pout.

The Mandalorian viewed her anxiously; like so many times before, she formed the shaky bridge between his heart and his head. "You will." _Just not like that, you noisy wench._

"So who wants to lose some credits?" Mission asked merrily. "By the way I beat HK and now you owe me 10 credits and a pack of Yumbang Pol."

"I told you she cheats; you can't beat a droid without cheating!" Canderous accused angrily pointing to the amoral teen Twi'lek.

"Cheating is a sign of true mastery when it comes to Pazaak." Pol explained as she twirled her new bracelet, "You are supposed to cheat, if you play it right."

"So you weren't cheating when you played me C-note?" Mission's eyes went wide. _Well that explains a lot._

"No, of course not, cheating is dishonorable." He frowned and resumed his study of the navigational charts.

"Pazaak is dishonorable!" Mission and Pol exclaimed together.

He looked at the pair and frowned at himself. _I'm too old to be so easily distracted by pretty young things._ "I'm trying to think; both of you out." He pointed to the door and waited for the girls to comply.

"C'mon lets go be dishonorable somewhere else, leave the Chief to his pithy thoughts." Pol linked arms with her young friend and they headed off in search of a space to deal cards in.

Canderous turned to watch them go, and then highlighted the Korriban system. He had calculated the duration of their flight to the desolate Sith world, they had about one day to go. After a while the Mandalorian shut down the galactic map as he did out of nowhere he got the distinct impression that something was amiss. _What now?_

The feeling grew, and he looked for the source of the disquiet. The sound of the computer behind him was momentarily muffled, a sign that someone stood between it and him, but it was the pale fragrance of her perfume that gave her away. "Pol," he growled as he bent low, roughly clamping a hand over hers.

"Oh frack it, I give up!" She moaned, extracting her hand from his weighty grip.

He smiled and laughed, "Don't give up. Just don't be so obvious," and patted her heartily on the back.

"Am I that loud?" She whined pitifully.

"No, Pol you are doing great, the background noise was louder than you that time. It's just the little things that let you down. Don't sweat it Champ."

**Med Bay**

"Joleeee," Mission simpered dramatically.

The ex Jedi looked up from his task at the teenager in the med bay. "Yes Mission?"

Mission picked up a bandage and began unraveling it, "Whatchoo doin'?" she asked rhetorically with a pearly grin.

"Oh stop it," he chided merrily rescuing the wrap and re-rolling it, "I'm busy kiddo. Making med packs, I want to make thirty before we land in Dreshdae. Got a feeling we will be needing them." Seeing the young girl's face he softened. "Oh all right!" He looked at the clock and said, "You got 50 seconds to antagonize me. Whatchoo waiting for… a count down? Go!"

Mission giggled impishly. She was aware, proud even, of the reputation she had fostered with her antics aboard the Hawk in the past months. "Actually Pops," she confided, "I just wanted to tell you; you got Kolto in your beard." She gave him a cheeky wink.

"Oh ho," he laughed, "I thought you youngsters prided yourselves on being abreast of the fashions?" He looked at her questioningly, awaiting the time-honoured teen defence of popular culture.

Mission snickered, "Fashion? Is that what it is?" With a little spring she hoisted herself up and took a seat on the lab bench tapping the heels of her boots against the cupboard doors with metrical precision.

Jolee went wide eyed with fake sincerity, "Oh yeah!" he assured her. He looked extraordinary to Mission; this balding, solemn man in Jedi robes… with sparkly blue goo in his beard. "Its tha latest dontcha know?"

Mission cracked up laughing at his expression until she snorted. She covered her mouth in shame flushing violet at the unintentional and unladylike sniffle.

Jolee smiled at the Twi'lek. He put his hand thoughtfully to his goatee and with a pretentious pout struck a model pose, "See now old people _can_ be hip." He insisted breaking into a bright smile once more. Mission lost control of herself at the archaic term and the med bay rang with laughter from both sides of the generational divide.

……..

Juhani approached the pilot cautiously, "Carth are you certain you wish to assist Pol with this assignment? If you do not feel up to it I can go in your stead," she offered, in dulcet tones.

"Thanks Ju, but I want to, Pol needs me. Besides three Jedi would draw too much attention at the academy; and Pol has the inside knowledge to pull this off." Carth answered emptily.

"Very well," she said respectfully. "Let me know if there is anything I can do to assist."

"I appreciate that Juhani." He said and the Jedi left him to his thoughts.

**Korriban**

The one time home of the true Sith, a race that died out eons ago, Korriban is an example of volcanic waste before the green arrives. Like the business end of a cigarra it smokes still in places, broken by the stubble of shattered history. The ashen silt that covers it surface clings like a film to everything it touches perpetuating its former inhabitants plan by polluting the sentients who go there.

The Sith who live there now are adherents to a culture, not a race. Under the direction of Malak they raise the next generation of acolytes within the academy and mine its surface for relics and remnants of a powerful race long gone.

Pol stood by the exit to the Hawk, under the dim amber glow of the depressurization warning light. They had landed in the Dreshdae settlement under the pretense of joining the Sith academy. Pol planned to take the guise of a spoilt Jedi apprentice who was eager to align herself with the Sith. The pretense was that she had ruined her chances with the Order by her unmanageable impudence.

In the bowels of the Ebon Hawk Canderous and Carth stood either side of Pol, like a pair of heavies guarding an underworld figure. They each bore a pack over one shoulder, filled with their mistress's 'things'. As Pol didn't really have a lot of 'things', Carth's bag was mostly filled with med packs and the com spikes T3 had provided her with. Pol had filled them democratically ensuring both packs were of equal weight.

"So we're clear on this? You're my slaves, and I'm the spoilt noble 'wannabe Sith' brat." Pol reiterated. She slapped them both on the back ushering them towards the loading ramp.

"You said it," Canderous threw in a barb. He was making the most of his freedom while it remained. _Being her slave could prove an enlightening experience, _the Mandalorian thought wryly as he cast a libidinous look in her direction. His mind returned presently to the dagger. He swallowed hard as the light hearted rumination solidified and became a lead weight of duty.

Carth laughed out of habit at the comment of his fellow slave. Feeling hollow like the laugh he had given, he stepped out the door and onto the boarding ramp. The strange air of the Sith world infected his spirit momentarily, giving voice to his repressed emotions. _Hopeless, it's all hopeless,_ the words revolved about his skull finding homes where fonder thoughts of Bastila had been. He fought them off assiduously; _I can't believe that, if I think like that they have won already. We still have Pol, in all her outlandish virtuosity and the Jedi; we **will** find the Star Forge._

Pol frowned and stopped them, "_N'jurkad! _Don't sass me Mandalorian! I'm your queen, I own you. And no encouraging him either Carth!" She wagged a finger at the Republic soldier and corrected her beau with a rough salute.

"I am sorry, My Lady," Canderous intoned vacuously as the punch landed.

"That's better." Pol accepted graciously. _Ah crap I broke a nail._ Ignoring the insincerity of his apology she pushed them onward hoping Canderous wouldn't blow their cover with his insufferable pride.

Before they got any further Canderous intoned devilishly, "What kind of slave am I exactly?" A sleazy grin blared crudely upon his face as he awaited his answer.

He faced Pol expectantly but it was Carth who answered the question, "Not THAT kind, you're too old and frankly I've met better looking gizka'." The pilot chuckled, as a small amount of his humor restored itself.

Unperturbed by Carth's insult Canderous winked at Pol, "Nu huh, I'm in my prime." He drawled and spread his arms wide invitingly.

Pol admired his form and bit her lip. She nobly resisted the fleeting urge to throw herself at his mercy. _I wish he wouldn't do this in front of Carth; the poor guy is taking Bastila's capture badly enough without us salting the wound_. "Does it matter? Quit it both of you, just clam up and look obedient. Don't forget you have to call me Mistress Anju."

The men nodded at Mistress Anju, and she continued, "For the purpose of this mission, your names will be," Pol thought for a second, then pointed to Canderous, "Vlad and…" Carth snickered boyishly at the Mandalorian's new name.

Pol frowned, her sympathy for the soldier abating, _I told them to be quiet_, w_hat is he laughing at? Vlad is a good name, I love that name! Humph I'll show you flyboy._ Pol castigated him, "…and I shall call _you_ Deggy."

"What?" He spluttered, "That's not even a real name!" Carth protested loudly with a horrified look for his Mistress. _Ugh good going Onasi, me and my big mouth._

"You'd prefer Igor?" She asked with a quizzical look.

"No!" He groaned, with distaste.

"Then cheer up Deg-Deg," Mistress Anju gave an artful smile as she patted Carth "Deggy' on the head.

Deggy turned to Canderous, "Vlad, I get the feeling she is going to be really mean to us." He predicted with a deprecating frown.

"Speak for yourself, Deggy, I'm her favorite." The newly named Vlad smirked, until Pol slapped the back of his head more than playfully, "Ouch."

"Quit it both of you, I shouldn't have to remind you out there, and Vlad… try to look downtrodden. I mean it!" The injurious sounds of grown men snickering dogged her. _Oh that's it, one more giggle and they're both dead,_ "Dreshdae has a Czerka store, it's not too late for me to purchase joy-boy outfits for you both." Pol threatened.

Her servants underwent an instant attitude adjustment. Satisfied at last that they wouldn't be found out on sight or by sound, Pol – Mistress Anju adjusted her dress. It was one of Missions unsolicited Kashyyyk purchases for her. The whole look of Lady Anju had been created by Mission and Juhani in the space of an hour.

Pol's hair had been arranged atop her head in an aristocratic fashion by Juhani; while Mission had varnished her nails, painted her mouth with rouge and outlined her eyes with kohl. She looked gorgeous, and Jolee had complimented the end result, bending on one arthritic knee to kiss her hand. _He's such a sweet old rogue_. She set her sights on the port authority as they stepped from the shelter of the Hawk and into public view. _What would Lady Anju do?_

"Come Deggy, Vlad." Mistress Anju clicked her fingers and stalked haughtily, with a coquettish swivel to her hips directly past the harbor master. As expected she was called back by the docking official.

"Excuse me Miss?" The harbor master called out. Lady Anju stopped and whirled to face the official, her skirts slapping against her ankles as her dress-robes billowed lightly with the action. She bought a scathing slant to her eyes and set her mouth to an arrogant pout, accentuated by her lip gloss.

With a sullen sigh she said, "Why, are you talking to me?" She examined her fingernails sulkily, while she awaited the answer.

The harbor master frowned; his eyes flitting from the noblewoman to her footmen. The larger one looked irritated, the smaller man forlorn as they waited for their Mistress to conclude her dealings. "There is the matter of the docking fee," the official nervously stated at last.

The Lady Anju looked up imperiously, and said, "Do you know who I am?" with the air of someone who doesn't hear the word 'no' a lot. She smiled smugly, the very corners of her mouth quirking upward; Pol made certain there was no trace of humor in her dark eyes to break the sham.

"If it pleases you, we might overlook the docking fee this one time…" The port official swept his hands through his hair, a nervous tic making a mockery of his movements. Pol felt a great well of compassion for him, but kept it from her icy façade as she left the space port. _Poor guy probably has to deal with egotistical Sith jerks like 'Lady Anju' all day long._

**Czerka supply outlet Dreshdae **

Dustil Onasi, Sith apprentice leaned against the counter, "Gimmie a carton of your cheapest death sticks, five power cells, six frag grenades and a flask of Corellian brandy." He snapped the order and tugged at his collar irritably while he waited for the Rodian store-man to fill it.

"Dustil!" Carth gaped at the youth in astonishment and set down the pack he carried; the feeling of surprise was soon superseded by a batch of mixed emotions. Naturally the most mundane of his concerns was the one that took the fore and ragged his mind, _oh no Dustil smokes?_

"What!" Dustil pivoted irately, to face the voice that had called his name. His initial surprise at seeing his father was blighted by his disgust, "Father, what are you doing here?" The hatred was apparent in his tone and his loathing showed clearly in the patches of high color that sprang to his cheeks bought on by rage. It contrasted the deathly pallor of his sallow complexion.

Canderous gave a grunt of question to Pol, "_Tion'ad ad'ika Jetiise?_ - Who's this Republics boy?" They looked alike, even caught up in their stand off.

"_Elek - _Yes and thank Neuter's nuts this place is deserted." Pol whispered wary of the expositional effect the scene would have on their plan.

Not seeing any threat, that couldn't be 'rolled' in a pinch Canderous grinned, "and you thought I'd be the one to break our cover." _One Rodian no problem; if Republic can keep 'Son of Republic' quiet._

"Vlad at this rate you will," Pol chided crossly, "here take Deggy's bag, you boys are supposed to carry these _not_ me," Pol kept a polite distance from the reunion. _Last time I intervened the whole things turned to bilge,_ she thought guiltily. She tried to look refined but remote. Unfortunately she flunked her theatrics and wound up looking vague.

"You were never there for us father! The Sith are my family now," Dustil spat angrily.

"How can you say that? I searched everywhere for you, I thought you were dead. These are the monsters that killed you mother! Malak bombed Telos to rubble; doesn't that ring any bells Dustil? What you are doing here is… it's insane. Come with me," Carth begged, his chips were down and he had no intention of losing his son to the Sith.

"Why? What's the point? If what you say is true there is no home to go to. You say they are evil, but they have only ever shown me kindness, given me a chance to grow and prosper. What have you ever done for me father? In all those years you were away at the war?"

"I was fighting for your freedom!" Carth's argument was met with a derisive snort from his offspring.

"You owe me father, I'm not going anywhere with you unless you can give me some kind of proof." Dustil braced himself against the age old habit of deferring to his father. The seed of doubt grew within his conscience nurtured by the reminder of Malak's devastation of Telos.

"Fine, you'll get your proof, but you're not going back to the academy." Carth insisted. His companions gave him a nod of approval. Dustil was a loose end their assignment could not afford. He could see his son teetering on the brink of indecision, and took a calmer approach with his boy. With unadulterated desperation he dropped the insolvable argument, surrendering his pride. Carth looked destroyed as he pleaded with his only child, "Just gimmie a chance, that's all I ask."

Lady Anju stepped forward cautiously, her eyes still nervously scanning their surroundings for witnesses, "We will get your proof." She asserted giving a loaded look to the pilot.

The grain of humanity left in Dustil rubbed shoulders with the burgeoning seed of doubt. The mental friction threw him into disarray he relented and reluctantly agreed to leave the academy with Carth. As Carth turned to face Pol, the turmoil of the encounter still swam in cyclonic swirls about his features. "I have to… do you mind?" He began.

"Its fine Little Brother, just try to keep him away from the academy while we dig around. As soon as I get anything I'll let you know," Pol sanctioned the move considerately, eager to diffuse the situation.

"Are you sure? I won't be able to get into the academy without you," Carth gave a placating glance to Dustil whilst he squared things with his team.

"It's fine; there will be less unwanted attention if I arrive with one attendant. Two was kinda pushing it. Go on, you've got a lot of talking to do." She pointed to Dustil with her eyes cocking her head slightly towards the errant son.

Carth breathed a sigh of relief, "Thanks, if this works out I'm going to make sure he gets offworld safely and back to Telos. Meanwhile I will take him back to the Hawk, I'll be there should you need me." The Onasi men left the Czerka store, despite all they had to say to one another they maintained a stalwart silence as they walked towards the space port.

Pol gave her own expression of relief when they were out of sight; so far the only witness to their charade was the Rodian shop-keeper. Calming herself she glided towards the bug eyed alien with a peculiar smile playing on her mouth. _Too easy,_ she thought as she summoned the Force.

Lady Anju spoke in careful monotone as she persuasively related her instructions to the bug eyed store-man. She clutched his sleeve, "You haven't seen us, we were never here. You won't speak of this again." The Rodian's eyes glazed and his small mouth drooped as he fell victim to the mental suggestion.

_Damn she looks good._ Switching the old Mandalorian charm into overdrive Canderous said, "_Solus mar'e_! – Alone at last! Just the two of us then my Lady?"

"Behave."

Canderous wiped the smirk from the lower half of his face, but mirth still resided in his eyes. For the first time in decades, since he had been a low ranking soldier he gave a salute, "Yes ma'am."

Pol rolled her eyes and berated him huffily, "Oh you suck at this! Stay silent, don't smile, don't flirt…" Pol counted off her orders on fingers adorned with polished maroon nails, "and while you're at it quit staring at my ass when you follow me." _There, I think that about covers it. Now I just have to act more like a tyrant…_

Bearing two packs worth of Mistress Anju's belongings Vlad trudged faithfully behind his Mistress.

……….

Her latest session of Battle Meditation completed; Bastila knelt upon a viewing platform in the upper reaches of the Star Forge surveying, observing and plotting. The Forge was operating 200 percent above the projected estimation. Every day hundreds of battle droids and dozens of starcraft were turned out of the interminable production lines complimenting the already considerable Sith forces. _This should be ours; it is the right of the strong to reign._

Her musings were disrupted by the heavy placement of an enormous hand upon her delicate shoulder. The subtle warmth radiated by Malak's closeness did nothing to endear him to her. A week of torture he had described as re-education had taught her much.

Malak moved his hand, giving the new Sith a dictatorial pat. He stroked Bastila's hair rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger possessively, "As promised I have already given you more power than you could ever have dreamed of Bastila."

"Yes Lord Malak, you have…" Bastila answered her master a hungry smile playing at her lips. _But I know some one who can give me even more… Revan. She yet exists, sleeping fitfully within that joker of an ex-Jedi and that hateful Mandalorian shall be the key to release her. _

"Then come, your lessons are incomplete. With your Battle Meditation pitted against them; together we shall crush the Republic and the weak Order you once defended." Malak eyed his apprentice critically until her attention refocused to the desired point. Bastila shivered in revulsion at the prolonged contact with the Sith Lord and turned her thoughts to revenge; _two Iriaz with one stone;_ _once Revan is restored the Mandalorian will die and so will you Lord Malak. It is the way of the Sith._ With the perfect semblance of attentiveness Bastila attended to her lessons, "Yes Lord Malak."


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N **YesI know 'incapacitator' is not a word and nor is 'wounder'. But they should be damn it!

Another chapter of my little saga...so glad you're still reading. And thank you for all the lovely, the nit picky and the pithy comments and reviews. Keep em coming please!

Lucee

**Sith Kids**

Sterile corridors scrubbed clean of character twisted off to the stark signs that proclaimed in Galactic Basic; office, cantina, store and the other amenities. Ahead a group of Sith students loitered by the entrance to the Dreshdae cantina.

Self-assured brash and righteous they were governed by a blonde vixen. Her hair was cropped to a militant coif and her gaze was cruel as she regarded the pampered Jedi dropout and her heavily burdened servant. Emboldened by numbers and bolstered by her status amongst the trainee Sith, Lashowe confronted the newcomers.

"Oh good-y new hopefuls," she scathed with a snicker as she assessed the cosseted ex Jedi. Lady Anju had not yet reached the crowd when the students began their tirade of insults. Revan snagged at her thoughts impatiently, without Bastila's force bond it had become harder to renounce her and more difficult to refute her arguments.

"Looks pretty fresh to me Lashowe," another student sneered before catching glimpse of Lady Anju's lightsaber. He adjusted his tone, "Ex Jedi are the worst." He delivered with disdain, and a laugh for his companions.

"So tell me Jedi," Lashowe contemptuously lengthened the word Jedi as she glared at the oncoming woman, "did it hurt when you fell from your vaunted Jedi code and landed on your royal rump?"

Lady Anju sighed wearily, and threw a stasis field about the group. It claimed all but the blonde girl, who by her rigorous training was able to resist it easily. A status bound and stocky young male blocked the entrance to the cantina. Anju frowned at the obstacle and turned back to her footman, "Get that one for me will you Vlad?"

"Mistress," he acknowledged her staunchly and set down his bundles to heft the stiff human out of her path.

Lashowe glowered at the older woman, "Who do you think you are?" and sized her up.

Genuinely insulted by the young girls taunt, Pol lapsed in concentration submitting momentarily to Revan, _ok fine O'star I've had enough_ _of these Sith Kids' you can handle this one._ Pol had addressed the war hero Revan O'star, who still resided in the catacombs of her mind, but against her will it was Darth Revan that assumed control with vigor, "If you persist in wasting my time I shall be forced to punish you, petulant whelp." Her hands flew to the lightsaber reflexively, ready and eager to slay the insolent blonde.

Vlad did a double take and so did the blonde. Something in the woman's indomitable voice and fierce stance made Lashowe back down, _Force how much training has she had?_ She wondered with a shiver, _hmm more than me,_ _she will have to wait._ "You'll keep," she sneered over her shoulder at the hellish specter of the ex Jedi, rapidly distancing herself from the impermanent statuettes of her peers.

Pol snapped back to herself and mentally charged, calling out Revan O'star for enlightenment, _What the hell was that? _Shocked by what she had felt, she strove for answers. _Why did you have to go so far?_

'_That' wasn't me and you know it,_ the Veteran Revan O'star responded. '_That' was what happens when you don't give **her **time, _the Veteran explained succinctly. _'That' was bound to happen without Bastila around. _Pol realized without elaboration from O'star that 'that' was the third element of their triad, Darth Revan.

Pol froze, watching Canderous picking up the bags, he had noticed her momentary change in demeanor but was oblivious to her rumination. _I do give you time O'star, I spent an hour with Juhani this morning trawling through your fracking damage!_ Pol fumed at the accusation.

_You give me time, but not her, don't distance her Pol; Darth Revan is also part of who you are. Continue as you are. Gag her, hold her down and shut her out for all I care but do not expect her to heal in the tomb you built for her. _The anger in the war heroine's words troubled Pol, and she considered the notion carefully as she trod the spotless halls of Dreshdae.

……….

Upon entering the cantina Lady Anju secured a seat with a reasonable view of the room. The patrons therein were a typical cross-section of the Dreshdae community. Archeologists' fresh from the ruins easily branded by the silt upon their knees and boots mingled with off duty Czerka employees, Sith students and hopeful initiates.

The striking Lady prowled the room with her eyes and the Force weighing up its sentient content for ability. _There has to be a Sith, worth their salt here somewhere._ Pol rationalized.

Revan O'star nudged at Pol's mind, _ask her_.._.ask_ _Darth Revan, _w_e need her, don't deny us this victory with your misplaced pride._

_Go away_, thought Pol anxiously. _I let you both have too much space, that encounter just now is a classic example and you near drowned me on the Leviathan. _

_That wasn't me_, Revan O'star veteran of the Mandalorian wars slammed angrily inside Pol's head. Her storming burned Pol's skull like the precursor to a headache.

_Then it's worse, I won't walk Darth Revan's path again._ Pol determined, squaring her shoulders as she resumed her evaluation of the cantina's crowd.

Revan O'star impelled the ex Jedi carefully, Y_ou don't have to, she's not asking either of us to change sides. All she wants is Malak's death and some acknowledgment… from you._

_I won't bargain with her I will give you both time, years and years of it but not now... _Pol frowned, the crowd was becoming less distinct visually as her internal dialogue dimmed her sight. She was grateful for the Mandalorians reassuring presence at her back; the distraction of her cerebral debate was overwhelming; so much so that she was barely aware of her surroundings at times. She felt safe under his guard.

O'star's voice returned to Pol's mind_. Then let me talk to her, for Force sake, unless we unify your mission will surely fail. I will keep her from you for now, but she will not wait forever. You know why we fell, deny us and you will fall again. _

After a final persistent prompting from O'star, Pol let her guard down. As the Veteran had promised, the data came secondhand in the form of a twice relayed lesson about status, the Academy and class structure of the Dark Jedi. It passed from the memory bank allotted to Darth Revan to the internal voice of the Veteran O'star to the consciousness of Pol who accepted the knowledge, enmeshing it with her own. With an aching head she dusted the taint off her soul, took a cleansing breath and found her mark.

………

It was her uniform rather than her unique strength that identified the sweetly tattooed and lilac hued Twi'lek as a Sith Mentor. Anju cast an inquiring smile, underscored with recognition in the Dark Jedi's direction. The Dark Jedi responded with a knowing look, drawn out by her ethereal appraisal of the new hopeful.

Within minutes of the women's visual and ethereal tête-à-tête, a drinks waiter arrived at Lady Anju's elbow. "Compliments of Master Yuthura Ban of the Sith Academy," the server announced blandly setting the wine in front of her.

Pol breathed a discreet sigh of relief, though she hated the unguided and dirty mental dealings with her past, it paid off. It was as Darth Revan had promised_, far better she notice you, than for you to debase __yourself by approaching her. Your strength is your justification, your power is your authority, be accepted and do so without question or application. Even weakened by your scruples, and with another name you are still Revan; and you are stronger than all. _

**Ebon Hawk**

"And this is my son, Dustil," Carth concluded the introductions and looked at his son expectantly.

Dustil squared his jaw refusing to shake hands with his father'scollection ofbizarre colleagues.

Jolee withdrew his outstretched hand when it became apparent the sullen youth was not about to take it. With a wiggle of his white eyebrows at Mission who was winding up a hand of Pazaak with Zaalbar, he poured another cup of caffa and took a seat on the man-eating couch to begin what Juhani referred to as his 'unorthodox' form of meditation.

Dustil watched the Twi'lek and the Wookiee, frowning at their competition and the assortment of objects, mostly component parts, that they were gambling for. "You play?" Mission asked the inaccessible youth, indicating the cards.

"Yeah I used to," he admitted sourly looking away from his father.

"I'll deal you in when I beat Big Z if you like," Mission made the offer of inclusion without her usual pep. Zaalbar woofled lowly at her change in attitude, and hoped the newcomer's, 'cooler than you,' attitude wouldn't be adopted by his eclectic young friend.

With his hands in his pockets Dustil eyed the Hawks common room with distaste. There didn't appear to be anything else worth his while, _and anything is better than another lecture from father._ He shrugged a shoulder, "sure."

…………..

HK was behaving erratically. During his nineteenth circuit of the ship he began to alter his route. Knowing that a droid who alters a pattern has a problem Zaalbar followed him. _He can't be doing it to break monotony, _thought Zaalbar sagaciously, _and why does he keep coming back to the swoop hanger? _

Zaalbar informed the crew, (Something is wrong with the droid.)

"Which one?" Asked Mission looking up from her latest round of Pazaak with Dustil. She had won six times out of seven and the only loss had been a pity loss. The way her hand was shaping up it looked as though she would be winning again. She suppressed a smug little smile and self consciously rearranged her lekku.

Dustil had taken the subsequent losses badly. Hell bent on beating her he looked up from his side deck at the sound of the Wookiee's grumbling and his opponent's reply. "Wait you understand that?"

"Well yeah, he's my friend." Mission tried not to bite; her conversations with Dustil had been civil but edged with corrosion. It was hard going, the crew had left her to make friends with the young man and they had little in common aside from an age group. _He's cute but he's kinda fratchy and rude,_ thought Mission.

"I didn't mean anything by that. It's just none of my friends are eight foot tree fiends." Dustil quipped throwing down a /- 5 to equalize the round.

"Well then maybe you need some new friends" Mission suggested superciliously. Expecting her opponent to lose it Mission braced herself, _he's Carth's son, you could try to be nicer to him even if he is a nerf herder. _

Dustil laughed, he was astounded by her daring. For a second she had reminded him of Selene. The sound was a shock even to him and he covered his mouth wiping the smile away with his fingers. "Maybe I should," he conceded with a voice that was less disdainful that it had been in months. _So the pretty little Twi'lek has some guts after all._

Mission gave him a smile. Her eyes darted to the red durasteel droid as it traversed the room, "What's the matter HK?" Mission asked the droid who had doubled back on the garage five times this circuit.

HK came to a halt beside a blank screened monitor. Even unarmed the durasteel monstrosity looked treacherous. His torso reflected in the screen's inactive surface bending and distorting into a terrifying, but slightly stumpy version of the real droid. It responded in mechanical monotone, "Statement: I miss the Master. Qualification: Droids are exemplary servants. I do not understand why she chose to take a meatbag, over her faithful droid."

(I told you something was wrong,) Zaalbar moaned throwing his head back.

"He's not just any meatbag HK," Carth chuckled. Pol had shared the working dog analogy she had for HK with him and he was often struck by the aptness. Mission had her moments but HK was the biggest pest around while awaiting instructions. Worse than that, when he was given a task that he believed was beneath him, he complained loudly.

"Qualification: And I am not just any droid meatbag." HK-47 pivoted his head to glare at T3 with what could only be described as expressionless droidprejudice. T3 responded with an indignat volley of blarfz and frotzs'.

Unbeknownst to much of the crew T3 also complained loudly when given a task that did not utilize his functionality to the optimum ratio. However, as most of the crew either ignored or misunderstood his binary 'bleeps' his complaints went unnoticed. HK understood him perfectly and emitted an injurious low sonic vibe that silenced the browbeaten utility droid's cursing and impared it's aural sensors.

Sensing the discord, Jolee broke his meditations. He set the caffa cup on the table and uncrossed his legs, giving them a stretch and a shake, "What Carth is trying to say is that Canderous is special to Pol."

"Rhetorical query: Am **I **not special to the Master? Do **I** not have over 2000 languages and forms of communication with which to commune with the Master? Am **I** not able to perform over 16000 functions, with unerring precision? Speculative theory: The Master is unwell; she may have some meatbaggy sickness."

Jolee laughed, _counseling a droid, what have I come to?_ "Yes yes you're a nifty robot. I hear what you are saying HK and it almost sounds like: What does he have that I don't?" The ex Jedi cackled.

"Proud answer: Droid precision that's what!"

Jolee appealed to the droids defence parabola, hoping to placate the rusted sentry before it got really annoying. "HK Canderous is a decorated warrior; he was a General during the wars. It's not as though Pol has walked into this mission without solid backup. You know, I'm sure, just like 'yours truly' here that the old 'meatbag' still has his uses," Jolee gave a wink.

"Even if certain key components' are worse for ware…" Carth mumbled into his sleeve. Immersed in their competition Mission and Dustil had missed the gag but Juhani shot him an outraged but amused look that grew into a full-blown guffaw. The usually unflappable but intense Jedi tried to sip her caffa without blowing bubbles into it.

The ex Jedi had also caught the gibe at his expense, his bald head snapped up, "Hey now, don't you be disrespecting your elders. You're not too little to put over my knee Padawan Juhani. And I wouldn't look so self-satisfied if I were you Captain Positive." He waggled a bony finger in their direction.

Carth gave a laugh at the nickname Jolee had awarded him after tiring of his bleak outlook. The old man was right, a fight was only a fight if you kept battling it, and Jolee had been the first to see that Carth had almost given up. From anyone else it would have been met with abhorrence, but the ex Jedi had a kindly and unassuming way of putting people in their place, and sustaining their faith in the little things.

Mission was willing to give any sentient being a 'fair go'. It was one of the reasons Carth had been happy to let the discussion with Dustil slide for a time. He watched his son lose game after game as the Twi'lek beat down his hand and the icy wall of his Sith forged superiority. Mission piped up, "Hey HK, didn't you call C-note an ingenious incapacitator?"

"Admission: Yes my records indicate that those were the words I used at the time…"

"And didn't you say yesterday that he was a wily wounder?" Carth asked with an eyebrow ascending his forehead. It hid behind a wayward lock of hair for a second before returning to its rightful place.

"Weary admission: Yes my records also indicate that I complimented him in that fashion." HK altered his pose in agitation.

Mission took the wad of gum from her mouth and surreptitiously ensconced it between the cushions on the couch with a thoughtful little frown, "and didn't you call him an expert eradicator? What else…a proficient punisher, a skillful killer, an able disabler, and a cunning little meatbag?" She slapped down a game closing card triumphantly and Dustil folded with a groan.

HK regarded the Twi'lek. The motivators in his neck gave a whirr, with the sound of the gears activating as he turned to face her, "Correction: The term I used was cunning little 'meathag', not 'meatbag' and the sentient I was referring to was you."

"Aw HK you say the sweetest things," Mission screwed her face up at the droid affectionately, blowing him a smoochy kiss. HK repaired an inexplicable break in his programming as he calculated the correct protocol for such a communication. Finding no apt course of reaction he determined to solicit an upgrade to his interactions from the Master at the next available opportunity. Out of habit he recorded the scene; adjusted his estimation of the Twi'lek and added the whole lot to his data file on Mission Vao.

"So what is it you are worried about HK?" Juhani questioned the droid. She decided the Wookiee was right, there was something amiss.

"Explanation: I am not worried…"

Carth faced the Jedi beside him, "He's bored." He answered for the droid. Juhani sighed and nodded, it was obvious to her as soon as the words were out of Carth's mouth. _Of course, the droid is in one of his moods._ She chided herself for not seeing it sooner.

"Statement: The meatbag Carth is correct. I am without purpose. Poetic correlation: I am adrift in a torrential river of passivity." Mission giggled at the droids spontaneous anti peace poetry. Dustil looked wary as he agreed to another hand.

"He wants to shoot things up," Carth continued his translation, this time for Dustil's benefit.

"Admission: Preferably _meaty_ things." Hk-47's photoreceptors lit up giving the mechanical being more life than he was strictly entitled to.

Carth laughed seizing the opportunity to dig at the old ex Jedi once more, "Maybe you could give him some target practice Jolee? I mean deflecting his blaster fire with your lightsaber, it should be easy... you know, since you're still so capable in your dotage." He smirked cheekily at the older man who laughed in reply.

"Oh ho, you're good aren't you?" He stroked his smooth cranium and looked up sheepishly. "I'm not living that down am I?"

Juhani smiled fondly, "Not so quickly it seems."

"Well it's not like Pol to go on a killing spree but if she were going to I am pretty sure she would want you there HK." Carth tried to console the frustrated automaton as a means to ease his own disquiet about Dustil, who was now viewing the whole discussion with car crash fascination.

Dustil tried in vain to focus on his side deck. _They're all fracking mad,_ he surmised glaring at his side deck in frustration. He looked at the pretty blue girl suspiciously. He was certain she was cheating but couldn't see how.

"Query: What do you think the Master is doing?"

Jolee stared at the droid in alarm the whites of his eyes almost doubling in surface area, "Are you trying to visualize something?" He asked with grimace of consternation. Only one person in the room was more preturbed by the un-droid like behavior.

That one person spoke up, "He's a droid!" Dustil proclaimed loudly. _What's wrong with these people?_ Dustil wondered for the fortieth time as he signed himself up for another round of Pazaak, _at least the girl's normal, for a Twi'lek swindler._

Jolee held out an arm like a barricade as if to hold Dustil's comments back as he frowned at the droid in fascination, "Whoa wait, that's awfully advanced stuff for a droid to be doing, even one with learning capabilities like yours HK."

Zaalbar agreed, (It's almost like feeling.)

"Proud declaration: I learn better than most meatbags. Cheerless admission: The validity of my learning is dependant on the reliability of the source material, which in this case is you meatbag. Repeat query: What do you think the Master is doing?"

Luckily for Carth, Juhani was the only one close enough to hear his mumblings, the words were out before he could think, "Probably giving the Mandalorian a lesson in Deralian tongue," he regretted the unfair accusation instantly, putting it down to the strange air of the Sith world, "I don't know HK." He amended aloud with a shake of his head. _I all hate this waiting; it can't be long before she finds the Star Map and the proof I need. Oh Bastila, space I miss you girl. I hope you're ok, I could really do with your advice about now._


	27. Chapter 27

**Yuthura Ban's Private Chambers**

The purple Twi'lek took a seat behind a heavy wooden desk. Timber of its kind was a rare commodity and the subtle badge of wealth it represented was not lost on Lady Anju, as she studied her reflection in the luster of its rich lacquer.

"Have a seat," Yuthura smiled gesturing to the leather armchair before it. "You have had some training, that is good, but I have to ask why you left the Jedi Order, and why you aspire to join the Sith."

"I found the Order to be… stifling. They did little to augment my personal advancement." Anju matched the cat like tonality of the Sith's voice and copied her pose, subconsciously manipulating the Twi'lek with her body language. "I would dearly like to reach my full potential, and I believe the Sith are my best option." _Don't be too eager_, Revan warned her.

Yuthura found Lady Anju's answer pleasing and she laughed lightly. She was eager to learn more about the prospective Sith before inducting her into the fold. "If you were to join us, the usual way you would become a trainee. You would need to accrue prestige in order to vie for acceptance by way of rigorous examination. But I would like to spare you that. Most of our trainees are around seventeen years of age and you are at least twenty five, am I right?"

Anju smiled a little at the woman's inaccurate, but flattering estimation, "Yes that's right, I am twenty five years old." She lied.

Yuthura chuckled "Hmm I thought so," she purred giving Lady Anju a knowing wink. "I'm told I am quite perceptive when it comes to such things, but the lie in our voice tells me I am wrong." Laughing again she threw her booted feet up onto the desk and reclined in her leather bound chair. "I am right about one thing though, you are very strong in the Force. Tell me what do you know of the Sith?"

"Peace is a lie there is only passion, through passion I gain strength through strength I gain power, through power I gain victory, through victory my chains are broken the Force shall free me." Lady Anju quoted the code perfectly and with heartfelt resonance.

Yuthura laughed with delight, she clapped her hands together lightly and bestowed a wry smile on Anju. "You have been studying haven't you?" She accused with a seductive gleam to her violet eyes.

Lady Anju flirted with her probable employer scrunching her nose and looking up from below her long lashes, "a little," she confessed with mock timidity.

The gamble paid off, Yuthura' saw a kindred soul in the woman. She decided Lady Anju would do nicely. _You my dear are just what I am looking for._ "I think I could enjoy working with you Lady Anju. I am going to accept you, as my apprentice. As my favorite you will be placed a cut above the pack, you will have your own rooms in the Masters' wing, and you will not have to vie for prestige with the novices. You will answer to me only, but you will have to earn your keep…" Yuthura slid her long legs off the table and stood behind the desk. She took a cigarra from the metal case on the desk and lit it drawing the blue smoke into her lungs and expelling a cyclonic veil of vapor as she paced the room.

Anju watched fleetingly enthralled by the scene, under Revan's influence she had been craving the 'burning vice' madly all day. "I expected as much. I will do as you ask. What of my servant?"

"You may keep him, but not your title; here you will be known as apprentice Anju, nothing more until you earn it." Yuthura nodded to the doorway. Vlad had been set to guard duty on the other side of it. "As for your _keep_," she chortled duskily, "I have a little task for you. Master Uthar Wynn is the present head of this academy, I'd like to change that, and I will expect you to help me."

Their conversation built itself like a tower made from Pazaak cards. "And after he is dispatched?" Anju propped the question calmly into the stack and watched the deck teeter as the cards of conversation threatened to overbalance.

"Dispatched? You weren't a very good Jedi were you? I would have expected 'demoted', from an ex Jedi, but you get right to the point don't you?" Yuthura commented giving the pack a verbal realignment.

"I am willing to wager Master Uthar wont cede his appointment quietly, I see no other option if you are to usurp him." Anju mouthed the words with pragmatism, bereft of emotion.

"A terrible Jedi, but a good Sith. You have so much potential Anju. When Master Uthar is 'dispatched' as you so indelicately put it, I shall take his role and you shall serve as my right hand in my current position. It is the way of the Sith, we outgrow our masters and cleanse the weakness from our ranks. Would you like that?" Yuthura smoked as she walked the room.

Anju's eyes followed her progression, "That would be acceptable."

Yuthura extinguished her cigarra stubbing it out into a sparkling crystal ashtray. The tar clogged ashen grime off the butt, discolored the glass and fouled the pristine surface, as Yuthura ground out the embers. Anju felt sympathetic to the cigarra, its only beauty had been the animation the fire had given it.

Yuthura straightened and sauntered to Anju's side, holding out a work strong arm, "Then we have an accord. Welcome Anju, my apprentice." Pol clasped the woman's hand firmly, sealing the deal. "I will prepare an itinerary for you and have it sent to your rooms. Here is your key; in the meanwhile I suggest you acquire a uniform and familiarize yourself with the grounds." Anju nodded in unquestioned acquiescence.

**Anju's Rooms: Dreshdae Sith Academy**

Vlad lowered the packs to the floor and stretched in an effort to shake the remembered weight of the packs from his shoulders as he glared at the security camera. He turned his attention to Anju as she inspected the room; it contained a footlocker, a bed, a table and a desk. The décor sat with such an obstinate determination it appeared to have been this way for generations. Pol - Anju knew this was not the case, the academy had been reestablished at Darth Revan's command only a few years ago.

She crouched to open the footlocker and like an intrepid treasure hunter she picked up the Sith uniform and held it under the light as if testing its authenticity. _I better change._ "Vlad, guard the door," Anju watched the man as he took a predictable pose in front of the door. With a discouraged sigh she redefined her directions, "from the outside."

Vlad nodded cordially and left the room. Anju stripped herself of the raiment modestly, struggling out of the finery and directly into the uniform baring as little skin as possible in the process. She gave up a silent curse to the security system. _Malak's big idea no doubt, he's more paranoid than the pilot...getting Little Brothers proof won't be easy under this spotlight - they always watch the new bloods closely._ Rifling through her packs she discovered the looking glass she had bought along.

A mirror image of her painted visage peered back. With a relieved sigh she wiped the rouge from her face with a sponge restoring it to her usual make up free countenance. Without the support and reminder of the costume Pol knew she would have to be particularly chary in keeping to her adopted persona.

Before entering the academy, she had spoken briefly with Vlad-Canderous, and set him two tasks, each task aimed at helping her to gain access the Star Map. But the situation had altered somewhat since then. She closed her eyes as though waiting for a kiss and breathed deeply, as she wiped the last of the kohl from her lids. By the time she opened them the tainted air infused her and she had to chip at the layer of uncertainty that formed like a crust on her resolve.

She had almost no means to outline the revised plan that was forming in her head to Canderous since she had met privately with Yuthura Ban. Pol would have to rely on the Mandalorian to use his own cunning and adaptability to assist her in the venture. _It will be fine, no sweat._

She smiled momentarily; he would still have to defer to her as he did so. Yuthura had mentioned that several of the students had slaves, and she wondered how Canderous would go mixing with them. _No time to worry about that now and 'Lady Anju' wouldn't care anyway._

_Where the hell am I going to get Carth's proof? I've already pitted myself against half the students here by jumping the queue. They won't be of help and Yuthura is too busy trying to double-cross Uthar to let anything slip. _"Bollocks," Pol muttered under her breath and hoped the audio feed on the cam hadn't picked it up Anju's uncharacteristic profanity. She emptied her discarded clothing of personal effects, her fingers clamping down about the stim-pack of delayed action poison Yuthura had given her.

'Empty one of these in his bed, for the next three nights,' her Dark Mentor had said. 'The accumulative effects will slow him to a crawl by the time I am ready to face him and he won't even notice it,' the gorgeous lavender woman had laughed with delight at the flawlessness of her plan. It would go well, if Anju played along and if she was able to access Master Uthar's rooms without being seen.

Pol shivered at the prospect, stealth had not been her specialty. _I'm getting better, but am I good enough to pull this off?_ The very question itself supported one verity. She was going to have to try, and she only hoped it would be worthwhile. She hated not having a contingency plan. If she was caught the pair would have to fight their way free of the place, and hope their back up, the Hawk's crew, would arrive in time.

_Just Anju now no titles_, Pol reminded herself as she rearranged her hair into a simpler style. Yuthura had insisted her new apprentice drop her title and her costume, but not her air of superiority. After all Anju was a snob and she had been placed far higher in the pecking order at the academy than was usual for a new entry. Truly of the underlings only the true Sith, the instructors and Masters ranked higher.

It was due to her strength in the Force and her mature age that the lavender Twi'lek had taken a personal interest in her. Yuthura had taken great pains to make her aware of this in their meeting, so much so that Revan couldn't help but remark inwardly to Pol. _She fears you, because you surpass her in strength. She leases your loyalty for now like the weakling she is, but ultimately she will have to be rid of you to claim Uthar's place._

Anju placed the first unbroken stim-pack into the her pocket of her black uniform and called Vlad into the room.

The Mandalorian entered the room once more and stood with impeccable posture awaiting her orders, "Mistress Anju?"

"I am going to take a very long shower." She informed him securing his gaze with her own meaningfully. _I'm up to something Chief I need you to back me up here._ Pol turned to face the refresher door pausing in panic when she caught Canderous' expression.

"And you need me to scrub your back?" He asked hopefully a wry grin tracing a line through the battle scars of his singularly boyish expression.

"NO." Pol barked sternly. _Damn you Ordo that's not it at all!_ She colored, flushing lightly at the implication. Calming herself she clarified her statement, "remain here until I tell you otherwise." _Got that? Good._

With an inappropriate air of disappointment her companion disciplined his face back to a reputable manifestation of servitude. _Pity_, he thought watched the dark and slender beauty enter the restroom.

Pol left the door ajar, wide enough to squeeze through and hoped Canderous wouldn't spoil her plan by sneaking up on her, _cheeky bugger_. She ran the water, checked the room for concealed cameras and switched on her stealth unit.

The door moved slightly as Pol brushed past it and within seconds Canderous felt a hand upon his shoulder. _Ahh, so that's what she is up to. She is getting better. _Vlad opened the front door obediently and with an artificial sense of purpose. He stepped out waiting for Anju's touch to tell him she was also out safely and discreetly behind him.

Her invisible fingers grazed his cheek affectionately and he resisted the emotion that threatened to manifest on his face as he closed the door behind them both. He resumed his vigil, trying to hear the almost inaudible sounds of her footfalls as she padded down the academy corridors. _Good luck Champ. _

**Master Uthar's Apartment**

Pol circumvented Uthar's security with the codes Yuthura had given her and stole into his apartment. The regimented patrols of the Sith troopers had been easy to sidestep on her way to the rooms but locating the masters offices had not been so easy. They had shifted and much about the academy in general had changed under Malak's reign. Once inside she made good on her deal with Yuthura cracking the cover on the stim pack of exo-dermal poison and lacing the Master's bed with its contents.

Her vision snagged on the computer terminal next and she strode definitively to its stand. A quick hack into the mainframe revealed that the only worthy data to be had was indeed contained within Uthar's executive station. Unfortunately it was inaccessible without a password and Pol did not have the means or the savvy to bypass it quickly. "Ah crap." She swore under her breath, _give me some good news._ Abandoning the task, Pol locked the door behind her and slunk down the halls back to her room.

………….

Canderous had changed into the garb of a Sith servant in her absence. He manned the door staunchly, unmoving and inexpressive. Taking advantage of her invisibility Pol paused to look him over. She decided he looked great in black. Vlad filled the uniform out enviably, clean cut, heavily muscled and broad of shoulder. _He's so fine, _Pol tittered silently to herself as she stepped closer to her unsuspecting beau. He had the kind of figure that men half his age; lifted, slept, ate, and breathed iron for. _And he smells good,_ Pol added to herself as she ogled him, grateful for the privacy of the stealth unit_, Mmm. _

Grinning like a wicked pixie Pol held her chin in one hand and considered her move carefully. _If I go for the dagger, he might forget himself… If I grope him …? Ha-ha... better not._ At last she made her presence known to him by poking him in the ribs with a bony finger. _Just to let him know I care_. He frowned slightly, not moving. _He knew I was there all along...again_, she realized with frustration. She prodded him again and humor flashed in his razor grey eyes.

After the second prompting Canderous stretched out an arm and opened the door as if answering a command from within the room. He stepped into the room slowly; breathing in the faint scent of Pol's hair deeply as she pushed passed him teasingly and entered the room.

When the door was closed firmly behind them Pol crept back to the refresher she had left running and shut down her stealth unit. To add credibility to her ploy she splashed her hair with water and bound it up in a towel. Satisfied she had concealed her deceit to all that might be watching, bar her faithful servant, Anju flopped onto her bed for some light reading.

She lay on her stomach resting on her elbows, datapad in one hand and ankles crossed. She looked up from the Sith oriented teachings on occasion to see Vlad staring at her, faithfully awaiting his next order. Though there was warmth in each fleeting look, neither smiled, neither spoke, under heavy surveillance they could not risk it. Without words both knew that all was relatively well, despite the waiting, and that nothing more could be done for the moment.


	28. Chapter 28

**Performance Anxiety**

Pol rolled onto her back and tried to sleep soundly. Canderous observed her as she struggled, burying herself in the warm folds of her sheets and the depths of her unconsciousness, shunning the early morning awareness that tugged at her mind and eyelids. Her eyes were fixed shut and her brows knit forming a frown as he looked down at her.

The deep sonorous baritone of her manservant roused her and she sighed cracking open her eyes lethargically beneath long lashes. "Good morning Mistress," Vlad paused waiting for his Mistress to awaken respectfully, "I have something for you." He inspected his early morning offering, with eagerness, and a smidgen of discomfiture,_ she will notice._

Anju sat up slowly with a quick glance at his offering and she went wide-eyed in surprise; she gave a queer little smile, and then launched into a disparaging tirade, "Just what do you call that? Vlad this simply won't do!"

Vlad looked downcast; his shoulders slumped under the weight of her reprimand. "I only wish to please you my Lady," he demurred; his tone was somber but insistent.

"With that!" Anju pointed, "Humph, you couldn't satisfy a half starved Nal Hutta joy girl with that." She folded her arms across her chest with a disdainful sniff. _What's he playing at? It's behavior like this that will expose us as imposters._

A note of derision crept into Vlad's tone. He knew it wasn't perfect, but he had higher hopes for the reception of his offering than what he had received, "Perhaps if Mistress used a lighter hand?"_ Mandalore's balls she is a fracking tyrant, _he thought Mumbling through clenched teeth he said, "It's not easy to perform under such pressure."

"_N'jurkad_ - watch your tone, and take that away. Do it over, no excuses, I want fresh caffa and this time; DON'T burn the toast!" Pol picked the datapad containing her itinerary off the tray. A quick glance revealed a single word underscored and placed out of context. She quirked a brow at her manservant, Vlad 'ahemed' and waited patiently for her to catch on.

After a sleight of hand that would have impressed a seasoned scoundrel like Mission, Vlad left his Mistresses rooms with rejected breakfast tray and a discreet bundle wrapped in his hands and prowled the corridors back to the kitchens.

**Slaves Quarters – Kitchen – Canderous Undercover**

Canderous returned to the terminal in the kitchen with the extra com spikes in hand. Like every room in the academy, it was linked to the mainframe. Logically this meant any computer could be accessed from that point. However factoring in the Mandalorian's deficient computer skills so far he hadn't been able to get the stubborn kitchen terminal to do any more than place orders for ingredients and view almost a thousand recipes for variants of gruel.

Canderous refused to accept defeat; he knew if he could download the security codes for her, Pol could work wonders and break the system. _I should have gotten this right the first time _he berated himself. He had been given an introductory crash course on slicing by Pol back at Davik's estate. Prior to meeting Mission and Pol his computer technique had been limited to: demolishing obstinate systems or threatening someone else with more skill at blaster point until they made it do what you wanted.

Since then he had learned quite a bit, but he had rarely had cause to utilize the learning as Mission or Pol had always filled the role. So it had taken a few attempts for Canderous to slice the system, and he was fresh out of com spikes. He knew that striking out for Pol's rooms to collect the equipment he needed would be pointless without an excuse to return to the privacy of the early morning kitchen.

With this in mind, he had burnt the toast on purpose and put half a cup of salt into Pol's caffa, to give himself a convenient excuse to go back. _Lucky she didn't drink it. _Despite all his efforts at getting her attention, it had been highlighting the word 'security' on her electronic diary that had eventually gotten the point home.

Establishing a worthwhile connection with the terminal at last Canderous grinned to himself. _Gotcha_, while the files downloaded he set about making his Mistresses breakfast anew. He looked at his watch_. 5 am, she's gonna kill me when she works out how early it is. _He had been up since four, Canderous cracked a smile at the thought. He had started the 'day repulsively early' as Pol called anything before seven, to avoid contact with the other slaves. So far he had been able to do his snooping and attempted slicing undisturbed.

The servants he had met the night before had been a miserable bunch for the most part. Not a one of them having an hour or more each day to spare for themselves, it was understandable. From what he had gleaned from the talk in the musty dorm they shared, their greatest joy came when one of their master's gained prestige.

The increase in privileges for the trainee Sith, their master, often made their daily duties easier, or at least provided them with a change to a monotonous and often hated routine. Canderous had barely slept and had been keen to leave the dorm hours before the sun had risen.

He rubbed his eyes wearily, early was early even by his standards and the caffa smelled good. The image of Pol as he had found her that morning stayed with him. Her hair sprawled across the pillow, the way her lips fell open slightly and her eyes moved rapidly beneath the heavy lids as she dreamed. The way her curves seductively disturbed the sheets, her vulnerability, and her beauty had tugged at him in some ways he had grown accustomed to and some ways that he hated to admit.

He recalled the genuine disappointment he had felt when she chastised him over the intentionally lousy breakfast. _Bah, I've been under her thrall too long. I'll end up a like a Republic boy if we don't get off this frack awful world soon._ He had heard the line before, but in his first solar cycle as a slave, he had come to accept that truly no one notices the help.

A sound from the slave's quarters signified the end of his peace and quite. The swing door creaked open and Vlad shifted so that his back obscured the terminal, as a sleepy eyed servant staggered into the kitchen. Vlad leaned against the serving bench by the refrigeration system and pretended to wait for the percolator. He wiped the smile from his face and watched the younger male.

**Tieri Markov: Average Joe Servant**

The young slave yawned and rubbed his hands over his freshly shaven face. He took up a stool, rested the heels of his boots against the preparation area with no regard for hygiene and tied his laces. Tieri stood again ramming his shirt tails untidily into his trousers. He gave himself a scratch and the air a sniff, _burnt toast._

He grunted and poured himself a cup of second rate caffa. The kind left out for the 'help'. After a few mouthfuls of the vaguely caffa like ink had swilled past his diseased looking gums, the servant looked at the rooms other occupant. _Hey it's the new guy, _Tieri thought to himself _suppose I should make friends, find out what I can about the new apprentice for Master. _

With a sincere smile and a polite nod for his fellow bondsman the slave greeted Vlad. "Hi I'm Tieri. You're under Master Ban's new apprentice aren't you? What's her name, Anju?" The grey haired Mandalorian gave a cool shrug of reply and looked impatiently at the caffa machine.

Tieri kept at him, knowing any information the giant of a man gave up would be worth the praise of his Master, even if it didn't lead Master Mekel to a promotion or earn him prestige.

**Canderous - Vlad**

Vlad tried to ignore Tieri, and nearly succeeded until the youth mentioned Anju's name. "Lady Anju's fracking hot, but I hear she's a real tyrant. My Master says that happens when a Jedi is strong in the force, they get despotic."

Vlad ground his teeth, but held his temper in check; _he's just trying to sympathize with me._ "She has her whims," he admitted with an apathetic scowl._ Go away kid. _Acutely aware that the percolator was almost done and that the codes had been downloaded to his datapad Vlad held out waiting for Tieri to turn his back. _As soon as he moves, I'll kill the uplink and finish Anju's breakfast - no problem._

"But from the smile you were wearing when I first walked in here, I'd say she can't be all bad huh? Huh?" Tieri gave a foolish leer and ambled towards the serving bench Vlad was propping up.

_Ah crap he saw that? _Vlad gave a noncommittal grunt and threw the youth a warning glare. It went unheeded. Tieri continued to walk closer to Vlad and the violated security terminal he was hiding _Turn your head and look at the clock kid._ "Yeah she's real fussy, what time is it?"

Tieri checked his wristwatch and reached for the refrigerator door dangerously close to the supplies terminal. _You idiot_, thought Vlad. Tieri answered, "Four minutes past five, she's probably quick with her criticism, but I bet she's a killer in the sack," the servant jibed conspiratorially throwing Vlad a merry but knowing wink.

Canderous snapped in true 'Mando'ad' style_, OH that's it! _His arm jerked out almost of its own accord and his fist connected happily with Tieri's face picoseconds later. The union was like a good old fashioned Mandalorian marriage, a cheery but bloody affair. Unfortunately, Tieri's face played an unwilling bride to Canderous's cogent and uncompromising fist. It could only end in tears.

**Moments earlier – Tieri Markov**

The smell of burnt toast had solved the breakfast dilemma for Tieri. He resolved to serve Mekel eggs, and headed towards the industrial refrigerators beside the computer terminal, joking with the new guy as he went, "….killer in the sack," He was about to ask the Mandalorian servant to move so he could access the supplies when out of nowhere the blow landed.

The sucker punch shattered the cartilage in his nose and Tieri choked on the fresh rivulets of blood that coursed down the back of his throat. The last thing he head beyond the whooshing sound of the coma curtain falling about his ears, was the Mandalorians voice as he said, "Killer is right."

**Vlad – Canderous**

As the unfortunate youth crumpled to the floor Vlad shook his hand, flexed his fingers and gave his knuckles a crack. "Nothing personal," He muttered, _you just got too close… and no one talks trash about my Anju._ Rapidly he looked for a towel to lift the blood splatter from his fist and uniform, unhooked the datapad and poured the caffa. He fetched the remainders of breakfast and strolled casually back to Mistress Anju's quarters.

**Mistress Anju's Rooms**

With a proud smile Vlad handed the tray to Anju slipping the datapad full of the hard won security codes to her beneath it. _Let's just hope you can do more with theses than get permission to order an extra ration of gruel Champ._

She took the tray to her knee and concealed the datapad amongst the wreck of her bed sheets and nightgown. "Much improved," she said taking a swig of the caffa. Vlad stood beside the bed, with his hands clasped behind his back. He awaited for her critique of his mornings duties.

Anju looked up at him, and gave a light chuckle; it wasn't the Mandalorians impatience that made her smile, but his enthusiasm. Pol melted, _he wants praise from his mistress, he's so cute_. She ran her tongue over her teeth as she discreetly examined the codes.

Much to her delight Canderous had acquired the set she wanted, she stashed the datapad clasped a hand to her breast and thanked him appealingly, "Oh well done Vladimir," _Oh you gorgeous clever man thing! Fracking stupid cameras, if it weren't for the surveillance I'd be smothering you all kinds of grateful affection right now…_ instead, wary of the camera mounted on the wall behind Vlad that faced her, she took a bite of her food, "this is perfect." Anju pointed to the tray for the benefit for any who might be watching her.

Canderous grinned, "Have I satisfied you my Lady?" He asked suggestively reveling in the coy reaction his words won from Pol.

Trying desperately to suppress a blush Anju replied in kind, "Yes Vlad, you have satisfied me," she whispered a reprimand, "don't smile, you're supposed to fear me"

"I do." Vlad stated blandly, without moving.

Anju was about to dismiss him from her bedside when she noticed a tiny red splash upon his neck "Is that blood on your neck?" She squinted up him. Vlad's hand went to it wiping the general area clean, she frowned at his damaged hand, "Oh Vlad, your hand, who'd you crown?" As callous as the prayer seemed she sincerely hoped it hadn't been any person of note.

She abandoned her breakfast, and slipped into the top half of her uniform, slipping her nightgown out from below it as she pulled on the strides. _Their clothes are better, the fashion conscious Jedi will flock. _Pol shook her head and wondered how many flavors of hell Bastila would give to hear her say such a thing. The Jedi had been on her mind a lot since they arrived on Korriban and that morning was no exception.

She listened intently as she dressed and Vlad explained his injury, "Just a slave, there was an altercation, I defended your honor…" Canderous leaned out from his stationary pose to get a better view of Pol as she dressed.

The ritual fascinated him at the best of times, but she seemed to be going about it in a whole new way around as mistress Anju. He decided there was a lot less skin, and that he preferred the usual modest shrug on shrug off 'don't mind me' technique she used when they were alone. She always turned her back, and it was still a reticent affair, _but a hell of a lot more fun._

"It's just as well," Anju said as she fished the spool of laces out of the inside of the black Sith stalker boots and flung them on the bed. Feeling utterly ogled enough for one day; she deliberately took a seat on the bed with her back to the camera. She rammed her foot into a brand new thick soled boot dropping into until it was past her knee.

"May I be of assistance?" a trace of hope tinged his voice. The wicked gleam in his eyes should have been caution enough to Pol, but her mind was on Bastila and she barely noticed.

Pol sat limply on the edge of the bed and gestured to the laces on her kilometer long boots, "Be my guest," She sighed, frustration diminishing her Lady Anju act. Canderous knelt at her booted feet and began to thread the laces.

Pol admired his skillful square hands as the long straight fingers deftly wove the laces. He gave them a tug when he reached the top eyelet setting the strain; Anju rolled her ankle about and flexed her leg to sure up the fit. Satisfied it was fitted snugly Vlad tied off the laces and ran his hands along the boots checking for irregularities. He trawled his hands up her boot, not stopping when he reached the knee. Vlad ran his hands higher along the length of her skintight trousers appreciatively stroking her legs.

Pol made a dutiful, but insincere attempt to stop things before they got out of hand; she kicked out at Canderous and growled saucily in Mando'a, "_Oh you're a bad one_. Mind your place Vlad." She caught him in the chest with her boot; he took the rough blow in his stride and stared into her eyes.

After a moment, feeling that the balance of power had been restored somewhat, Canderous relinquished his grip on her thighs. "As you desire," he still held her fathomless gaze. With reluctance, he slid his palms down the inside of her black clad leg to the soles of her ebony boots. He gave them a last touch and stood back from his work, thoughtfully leaving room for the woman he craved to stand,_ ah stang._

"I have…" Pol got to her feet, feeling a little unsteady_ Mission's right, there is something steamy about a man in uniform… _Her hands found her itinerary and she scanned the datapad, "I have to be in Yuthura's office at seven. What time is it?"

_Uh oh_, "Its quarter past five. I didn't think you would want to be late on your first day of work," the false excuse was worth significantly less than the real one, but it was all Anju had been given to react to.

"Vlad…" She cautioned with a scolding glare for the rippling, muscle bound Mandalorian. Pol realized how difficult it is to reprimand some one who overreaches you in height. He was just inches away and she was still dying for a kiss. She became aware of the twin internal voices she had been holding back. O'star sounded out first; _oh for frack's sake, you think she'd never seen a man before. Just grill the son of a bitch; you need your beauty sleep we're not getting any younger! _

Darth Revan, made her shiver as she addressed her directly_ I'll do it if you like._ The tone was playful, less malicious than it had been, but Pol stifled it all the same._ No no, its find I can handle him._ She asserted primly.

"Yes Mistress?"

"If you ever wake me more than an hour before I need to be woken again, my next pair of boots will be out of your hide." Pol threatened him weakly.

Through means inscrutable by the Sith surveillance Canderous made it clear he wasn't buying it. "Yes Mistress," he intoned formally, _bah you're alright._

………

Pol walked to the refresher, her mind was a chaos comparable to the nagging in her limbsthat came from missing his touch. Two voices vied for her attention one offering unsolicited advice on how to 'conquer' her smug Mandalorian and the other teasing her relentlessly about the licentiousness nature of the whole ordeal. The thing that surprised Pol about the two mildly varying opinions was that both held a weight of respect for Canderous and more importantly for her, despite their taunts.

_That went well_, O'star giggled inside Pol's head.

The dark lord snickered along, _yeah Polly_, _you sure showed him. You know if you can get him at your feet again.._.

Pol silenced the rampaging voices_; Oh shut up,_ and laughed at herself silently as she combed her hair out before the mirror.

**Ebon Hawk**

Mission Vao sat in the galley beside Dustil sweeping her finger about the inside of the empty bowl inquiringly. She licked the remains of her breakfast from her finger. Number nineteen seemed to be the least repulsive of the new food synthesizer recipes. Dustil was also enjoying it, he spoke through mouthfuls of his fifth serving, and Mission was amazed at how much the young man could put away.

"So, how did you end up getting rid of the gizka?" Dustil asked.

Mission gave a graphic description of the poisoning and the aftermath without concern for the new arrivals distended stomach. As she did Dustil wished wholeheartedly that he hadn't gorged himself quite so early in the day. Recipe number nineteen threatened to make an abstract comeback as he rose from his stool and staggered to the nearest sink.

"Oops sorry, I forgot just how umm messy the gizka purge was." Mission giggled into the back of her hand and tried to suppress her own intestinal protestation as Dustil dry reached over the sink.

When his unproductive heaving ceased he turned on her slowly still looking distinctively green and Mission was struck by how expressive certain human complexions could be. "You could have warned me," he frowned at her "or picked a better time to use those words in the same sentence."

Mission cringed, "Yeah, you ok Dustil? I didn't plan that well…"

Dustil gave a bloated sigh, "I'll be fine. Ugh I think it was the visual of them writhing in their own expulsions that did me in." He smirked bashfully and settled their bowls in the washer.


End file.
